Houseguest
by xxxEmma3xxx
Summary: When Shredder is injured helping fight the pizza-monsters, Raph insists on bringing him home to patch him up…RR!
1. Default Chapter

This starts during the episode Case of the Killer Pizzas. For those of you sane enough _not _to have the titles of every episode memorized, that's the one where these little eggy things hatch into big evil yellow monsters, and Baxter loses the remote control and they go nuts. They turn on everybody, including Shredder, who ends up fighting on the same side as the turtles for a change. The rating is for gore and maybe a little language later on. Review and tell me what you think so far!

* * *

Leonardo would tell himself later that it was just what _he_ was going to, that it was simply a matter of not reacting quickly enough. He told himself that, had there been time, he really _would_ have thrown himself in front of the attacking monster for Raphael's sake…

But there wasn't time, or he wasn't willing…he never knew for sure which. All he knew was that the creature went by and then there was no more time for him to help, nobody else close enough and nothing between Raph and those killer spikes…

Except Shredder. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Shredder was in the air. He landed a long flying kick straight to Raphael's chest, knocking him to safety, and turned to face the monster head on. He reached out fast and slashed once with the blades of his right arm, then raised his left to protect his face.

Not protection enough. As the monster's claws descended, there was a clash of metal and Shredder emitted a bellow that let everybody know he'd taken some damage. It wasn't until Raphael stood and put a sai through the creature's eye, though, that they saw exactly what had happened.

The monster fell in a heap and all eyes turned to Shredder. He was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, panting heavily.

Leonardo broke the silence. "Correct me if I'm wrong…but human arms don't bend that way, do they?"

Donatello came closer. "And…was his outfit always that color or is that _blood_?"

"I've got to get to a hospital," Shredder grated.

"Want me to call 9-1-1 for you?" Michelangelo asked helpfully.

"He's a wanted man," Raphael reminded them. "If he goes to a hospital…" He went up and offered his shoulder for Shredder to lean on.

Leonardo immediately saw where this was going. He stepped up right in front of them and shook his head. "Are you nuts? Raph, you _can't_ bring him to the lair. Splinter will kill you. He'll know where we _live_… you can't do it."

"He saved my life, Leo," Raphael argued. "Which is more than you did. So just back off, okay? I'll bring him if I feel like bringing him."

Shredder shook his head slowly, willing his vision to clear. "I already know where you live, turtles. But that's beside the point. Why would I go with you? Your rat is not a doctor, is he?"

Michelangelo shrugged. "He always fixes _us_ up. And you do need _some_ help, Shred-head, even I can see that. Should we take you to a mechanic, or do you want to come back to the lair?"

Shredder's eyes rolled back and he collapsed into Raphael's arms. Michelangelo scratched his head. "Does that mean no mechanic?"

* * *

When the door to the lair burst open and four screaming turtles surged through it dragging a half-conscious Shredder, spraying blood in every direction, it took all Splinter's training to appear unruffled. "Quiet, all of you!" he commanded, coming as close as he ever had to raising his voice.

"Sensei!" Leonardo was quick to take the floor. "Shredder was injured helping us fight the killer pizza-creatures, and Raph thought we needed to bring him home with us."

Donatello had lowered Shredder to the floor and was kneeling over him. "To be honest, he doesn't look so good. His arm's broken, badly, and he's cut all over the place. Some of it's deep, but some are just scratches from his armor while we carried him back."

"Yeah," Michelangelo spoke up unhelpfully. "Check it out dudes, I was trying to hold his head steady and his nasty helmet cut me in the shoulder! Like, I might be scarred for life!"

Raphael shoved Leonardo aside. "You listen here, Master Splinter, because they're not telling you the whole story. Shredder wasn't just injured _helping us_, he got hurt in the process of saving my life and I _insist _that we take care of him. At least until he's out of danger. It's not right otherwise."

Splinter made a quick decision. "In that case I think we have no choice. We will keep him here until his condition has stabilized. Michelangelo, go prepare the spare room."

"April's room? We're giving the creep _April_'s room?"

"Michelangelo!"

He went off and Splinter turned his attention back to Raphael. "You must realize that your brothers are not comfortable with this."

Raphael swallowed. "Sensei, I will take full responsibility for anything that happens. I will keep track of him and I'll bandage him up myself if I have to, but it's a point of honor for me to ensure that he survives."

Impressed despite himself, Splinter patted him on the shoulder. "I would not and could not ask you to take full responsibility for a dangerous, vicious warrior like the Shredder. But I appreciate your dedication and I will rely on you to help me while he is here. Come. Let us draw a bath, because I cannot even begin to understand his injuries until some of this blood has been washed away." He bent over. "Can he be moved, Donatello? Is he still breathing?"

"He's fine so far, Master, but I worry about blood loss. And to be honest, I don't know how deeply some of these punctures are and he may have ruptured something vital. There's really no way to tell until we've cleaned him up, though."

Raphael sighed. "I can't believe this. Now I owe one to Shredder. Isn't that amazing?"

"If we don't hurry," Splinter warned, propelling him towards the bathroom, "you may never get a chance to repay that debt."

* * *

TBC. I already have the next chapter ready. Gimme feedback! What do you think so far? 


	2. ch2

Short update this time. The overall plot is still in its formative stages, so if you have any suggestions for future chapters, go for it!

And yes, I know this chapter is a bit gory compared to the cartoons, but let's be realistic here: when you fight for a living, you get hurt. So if blood freaks you out, prepare to cover your eyes.

And a big thanks to Shikamaruchick for being the first to review.

* * *

Shredder woke up to the unpleasant sensation of having water poured over his head. He shook his wet hair out of his eyes, wondered briefly about the lack of helmet, and then looked down. And screamed.

He seemed to be soaking in an entire tub of blood. "Relax, Shredder," muttered a turtle from the floor beside him. "We're just cleaning you up. You're okay."

"Whose... whose blood is this? And why am I lying in it?"

"It's bathwater. Relax." A green head peeked over the edge of the tub. "Yeah, it's kind of bloody, but hey, that's what happens when you get cut. We just want to be able to see the extent of the damage. Hence the no shirt." A beat. "You don't have any injuries on your legs, do you?"

"No," Shredder said quickly before bothering to check. If they thought he was removing his pants, they had another think coming. He felt vulnerable enough as it was, sitting half-naked, without his armor, and with – he realized this all of a sudden – a broken arm. It was a bad break, and the sight made his stomach turn.

"Okay. Splinter will be right back. Try not to throw up on yourself," the turtle advised, "Because the hot water's on the blink and we might have trouble drawing you another bath."

Shredder nodded. It was good to concentrate on not vomiting – it allowed him to take his mind off all the other unpleasantries going on with his body.

"Keep your arm out of the water, if you can." The turtle stood and looked down at him. Purple headband. Donatello.

"Why? It…hurts to move." Shredder overcame his reluctance to own up to feeling pain.

Donatello laughed. "No surprises there. We'll want to ice it to keep the swelling down, so don't soak it in the warm water. Later on Splinter will set it for you. Relax – he does it fast and well and in a few months you won't even know the difference. Want a towel?"

"Yes." He didn't like leaning on the turtle to stand up, but it was that or risk falling and injuring himself worse. Shredder toweled off his torso clumsily but avoided touching his freakishly bent left arm.

"Oh." Donatello looked surprised. "You've dislocated your elbow, too? That can't be helping. Here, let me-"

Shredder hadn't had time to brace himself and he hissed a furious protest when Donatello yanked his elbow back in place. It was all he could do to remain on his feet, and the turtle had to help him over to a table to lie down on. By the time he was finally arranged, the rat was in the doorway.

Splinter sat down and without preamble touched the gash that was bleeding the heaviest. "What is this?"

Shredder frowned, trying to remember. "It was the beast's claws," he said finally. "It's not poisonous, but I think a piece broke off in there. You'll have to pull it out."

"And this? Did it leave any fragments in you over here?"

"Um…" Shredder shook his head. "I don't remember – can't you just sew up the worst one and ask me about the others later?"

Splinter sighed. "If you wish. But I expect you to be out of your head with pain in a few minutes and totally unable to give me coherent answers."

Shredder's eyes widened. "Don't worry," Donatello interjected uncertainly, "I think he's kidding. Master Splinter just likes to prepare for the worst."

But Splinter hadn't been kidding. Shredder ruptured a blood vessel in his face with the effort of holding still while the rat pulled out bloody chunks of foreign matter from his wounds and sewed them closed with a huge veterinary needle. He stayed conscious almost until the end, panting helplessly and watching three gashes sewed closed and four puncture wounds bandaged.

He thought it was over, but then he heard the turtle speaking, the words vague and echoing. "I really think you should stitch that last one, too, to be on the safe side," Donatello was saying.

The world greyed out as Shredder watched Splinter pick up the needle once again, and by the time the stitches started he was finally unconscious. His last thought was, _And they haven't even set my arm yet_.

* * *

TBC. What do you think so far? 


	3. ch3

Raphael had broken a bone in his foot when he was twelve. It had hurt to break and hurt to reset, but the worst part of the whole experience was the smirk on Leonardo's face as he watched Raph get up off the operating (kitchen) table sniffling. "Wanna lollipop? What a _brave boy_," he'd teased, ruffling Raphael's nonexistent hair. "It's going to be all better."

Michelangelo and Donatello had laughed too. Raphael had been completely mortified and had promised himself he would never cry again. Three years later, that promise still held…

Now he watched Shredder sleep, jealous as hell of the way he had taken his stitches without a murmur. _He didn't scream once_, Raphael admitted to himself, _Not when he got hurt and not when Splinter fixed it. Lucky old creep. _He hadn't had any serious injuries himself since that stupid broken foot, and he was just itching for a chance to prove how much he'd grown up since then. Let them break his foot. Let them break his _head_, slice off his tail and poke out his eyes, he wouldn't say a word.

But _no_, oh no, now that he'd finally had a chance to be a man about it and go down fighting and come home respectably bloodied up, the stupid old can-head had managed to ruin it for him. "When you wake up I'm going to pound you," he growled out loud.

Oops. Shredder stirred and open his eyes, then jerked upright in bed. "Whu-? Who's there? You. Turtle…" he shook his head.

"S-Sorry," Raphael stammered. "I was just…checking on you. Like to see if…see if you're aright." He watched hungrily for the slightest wince or grimace, but Shredder only lay down slowly again.

"See if I'm all right? Of course I am – I was _only _sliced to ribbons. Why wouldn't I be all right?"

Oh, and he could _joke _about it, too. Raphael watched him for a few more minutes, unable to decide whether he wanted to _be _him or just kill him.

* * *

Leonardo, on the other hand, never had such questions. He knew what he wanted to do with Shredder, and he knew he wanted it done as soon as possible. Days had passed, though, and Splinter _still _showed no signs of wanting to be rid of his guest. Instead, he treated him with infuriating politeness and silenced all of Leonardo's attempts to argue the issue.

Leonardo decided it was time for his daily effort to sway his sensei. He entered Splinter's room and closed the door behind him. "I know what you're here for, Leonardo."

"Master Splinter, he's clearly not dying, and it's been practically a week. Can we please-"

This time Splinter didn't even let him finish. "He is unarmed, my son, and hardly in a condition to do you harm. I have already told you that when I feel it is time for Shredder to go, I will send him. In the meantime, you must learn to govern your emotions."

"Govern my…_what_?" Leonardo echoed. "Is that what this is about? Me learning to control myself?"

Splinter rapped his stick on the ground. "Not everything is about you! For heaven's sake, Leonardo, will you _please _try to think the way I have taught you? What does Shredder gain by staying here?"

"Um…" Leonardo racked his brains. "Nothing?"

"Good. And what does he lose?"

Ah. He hadn't thought of that one. "Well, Krang won't be too happy with him, will he? And…and while he's here he can't help train any more foot soldiers…and he can't get any training in himself."

"And most importantly," Splinter added, "by living in close quarters with your enemy you begin to know him. Although clever, Shredder is inflexible and so what you learn about his mind now will _always_ be useful. I want you to use this opportunity to become familiar with him, because there is none of you who can see into the mind of an evil one the way I can…and I may be gone before too long." He sighed. "I wanted to raise you in safety, but it seems I sheltered you _too _well. In particular I worry about Michelangelo – he has no conception of what it means to-"

Leonardo hated to interrupt his father, but this could not go on. "You're not going anywhere, Master Splinter," he said firmly. "Don't be morbid." After a moment he added, "And now I understand why we are keeping Shredder. I'll make something up so he doesn't get suspicious. And I won't question your decision again." He bowed and went out.

"Good," Splinter muttered once he had gone. His eyes darted for a moment towards his closet, where Shredder's bloody armor lay neatly stacked on the floor. He shivered. The sooner his sons understood his objective and achieved it, the sooner he could eject the houseguest who was, despite all the appearances to the contrary, grating on his nerves more and more each day.

* * *

In Splinter's presence Shredder remained cold and aloof, every inch the captive Ninja master patiently awaiting a chance to escape. But each time the rat left the room, he and Michelangelo argued like children. Every day.

Until eventually Michelangelo pushed too far. "Leave me alone, chrome-breath. We all know you're jealous. We remember the time you were brainwashed and you were down here trying to surf the sewers on _my _scooter. Dude, you know you wanna _be _me."

"Be you?" Shredder echoed scornfully. "Whatever for? I am superior to you in every conceivable way and I can't imagine a single advantage to becoming you for one tiny instant."

Michelangelo took out his chucks and performed some fancy twirling. "Can't do _that_ like me."

"I could, but your rat took all my weapons."

"Can't sewer-surf like me."

"Of course I could – if your rat weren't determined to keep me indoors."

"Can't scarf pizza like me."

"Oh, no?" Shredder's eyes narrowed.

There was a tense silence. Raphael broke it with a loud laugh. "Well, I'll call the delivery boy."

"Prepare to be humiliated," Shredder rumbled.

* * *

TBC…

Yes, this chapter was a bit silly, and yes, the next chapter will contain a bit of silliness too (it's TMNT, after all!). But I swear, the story _is _going somewhere. Thank you for your suggestions thus far. Keep 'em coming!


	4. Trial by Pizza

I'm jealous of the show for getting to come up with such cheesy…no pun intended ;o) … titles as "Case of the Killer Pizzas". So from now on, I'm going to give my chapters similarly goofy titles. This one is….

Trial by Pizza!

* * *

"I think you're in over your head, Mikey." Donatello said softly. The turtles were all watching Michelangelo get into his best pizza-eating frame of mind.

Michelangelo looked surprised. "Come on, dude, you've _gotta_ be kidding! You really think the Shred-head can outeat _me_? At _pizza_?"

Donatello shrugged. Well, I've only seen Shredder eat pizza once – and it was when he thought he was you. I don't even think he likes the stuff."

"Right on, dude. That's what I mean. So like, he's totally out of practice."

"Right," Leonardo agreed, "But he's not stupid. He must know he's out of his league…unless he has a plan. You know he wouldn't have challenged you if he thought he had no chance. Splinter doesn't call him 'insidious' for nothing."

Michelangelo considered this, jogging in place again to work up more of an appetite. "Leo's right," Donatello seconded. "And Splinter doesn't run his mouth for nothing. Although…I can't imagine how you can cheat your way to victory in an eating contest..."

Michelangelo smiled. "So what you're saying is, the can-man can't have a plan, man. Right?"

Donatello rolled his eyes. Leonardo shook his head.

And against the wall, behind the TV where the light couldn't possibly catch him, Shredder melted further into the shadows and smiled.

* * *

The competitors were both staring at the mammoth pile of pizza boxes. "That's right, guys," Raphael said. "Twelve large pizzas. I think that should be enough, don't you? And maybe a little left over for the rest of us. Maybe."

Michelangelo looked delighted. Shredder, on the other hand, looked sick. Nevertheless, he sat down determinedly across the table from his opponent and reached for a box.

"On your mark," Leonardo said, fair as ever, "Get set…go!"

At the signal, Michelangelo tore into his box and stuffed half a piece in his mouth immediately. Shredder carefully separated one cheesy slice and took a bite.

Fifteen minutes later, Michelangelo was getting cocky. He was through almost a pizza and a half already, and still felt okay, while Shredder was just finishing his first pie. Still, since he kept losing time by cracking jokes and showing off his skill at twirling pizzas on his chucks, Shredder was still respectably close behind him. Michelangelo didn't like watching a human _almost_ able to compete in the strictly mutant sport of pizza-scarfing, so he decided to quicken his pace.

Just to show off, he snatched up a whole slice and stuffed it into his mouth at once. Unruffled, Shredder folded his up daintily and did the same.

The other turtles were all bouncing around with excitement. When Michelangelo finished his second pie, he had to rest for a moment. "Come on, Mikey, don't let him catch up," Raphael warned softly once he thought the rest had gone on long enough.

"Raph's right, Mikey. Be slow and steady. Go for it," Leonardo encouraged.

Shredder swallowed before speaking up. "You need a cheering section to help you _eat_?" he asked scornfully.

Mikey snapped back _before_ swallowing, giving everyone an unpleasant view of chewed up broccoli-and-ice-cream pizza. "At least I _have_ a cheering section."

Raphael snorted. "Oooh, ouch."

Shredder gestured to the two equal stacks of untouched boxes. "They aren't helping you much."

Michelangelo didn't crack a joke back – he considered it answer enough to rip right into a third pizza. Within seconds, he had two slices stuffed into his mouth.

Continuing to eat steadily, Shredder waited for his opponent's inevitable difficulty swallowing before advising, "Be careful, turtle. I doubt the Heimlich maneuver can be used on those with shells."

Caught off guard at the can-head's first attempt to make a funny, Mike _did_ almost choke. He was trying to simultaneously laugh, eat, and breathe, and he ended up coughing helplessly for several minutes. When he regained control and realized that he was actually _tied_ in the contest, he began wolfing down pizza so fast that even Raphael had to turn away.

"I'm going to win, you know," Shredder said conversationally. "What you mutants fail to realize is that I am _very_ good at stuffing my face with pizza. This is what we do after hours in the Technodrome. Every night. Bebop and Rocksteady both try to outeat me and they can't do it."

That image was so ridiculous that Michelangelo started laughing again. Shredder pretended not to notice. "Krang never wins."

And then Michelangelo was out of control – laughing hurt his abused stomach, but the idea that _Shredder_ was making him laugh was so funny he couldn't stop. He wrapped both arms around his midsection and tried to breathe deeply but it just wasn't working.

"It's a good thing I'm not wearing my armor tonight," Shredder observed, inexorably continuing to chew and swallow. "It looks like Michelangelo is about to vomit, and the last thing I need is to get splattered and start to rust. It makes me squeak, you see, and then I have a hard time creeping up on people."

He was totally deadpan, but Michelangelo was in such stitches that he fell out of his chair and made no attempt to rise. "Please," he gasped from the ground. He was laughing so hard he'd started to cry, and the stomach cramps that laughing produced made him want to cry harder.

Knowing that this was the perfect moment to use his best weapon, Shredder mused aloud, "You've got chicken pizzas and sardine pizzas here…I wonder, why didn't you order any _turtle_ pizzas? I'm sure they make them…"

The thought was so disgusting that Mikey's tortured stomach couldn't take it. He leaped to his feet and made for the door.

He didn't get very far. They heard him outside in the sewers, emptying seventeen slices of pizza into the slimy water. Shredder glanced at his box and his opponent's and counted the remaining slices. He ate one more, shoveling it in in two bites, and said shortly, "I win," before rising from the table.

A second later, he too ran for the door. Raphael closed it firmly behind him to block out the noise.

* * *

The next morning, Raphael was up early. He'd felt too nauseated to touch a pizza the night before, and he was hungry. After his breakfast there was _still _nobody else awake, so he headed to the dojo to get a little practice in. Leonardo thought he was the only one who would work on technique voluntarily, did he? Well, this would show _him_.

Raphael had just finished his stretching when…

"I know what your rat's plan is."

The noise startled Raph into drawing his sais and spinning around. Shredder was practicing modified kata in the corner, slow but surprisingly fluid considering his sling.

"Oh, really?" Raphael was annoyed. _He _had been trying to figure out Splinter's plan himself in the 9 days (but who's counting?) that they'd been playing host to the Darth-Vader-wannabe, and it was really the last straw that Shredder had beat him to it.

"Yes," Shredder answered without a break in his smooth movements.

Raphael stifled the urge to throw a sai at him. "Well?" he asked after a moment, when it became clear that he wasn't going to get any more of an explanation.

Shredder finished up what he was doing and then finally looked over. "The foolish creature thinks that by remaining here with you I will somehow catch your _disease_ of do-gooding," he explained. "So you might as well let him know that I am hating you mutants _more_, not less, every day."

"Believe me, tinsel-teeth, the feeling is mutual." Raphael put his weapons away reluctantly. "I see you've worked your way back up to kata…when you're ready to spar and you feel like getting your tail kicked, gimme a ring."

"Not a bad idea," Shredder said thoughtfully. "But I will have to wait until I feel ready for a serious fight – I doubt you're capable of sparring lightly."

Although Raphael hated to have to _ask_, he had to know. "Is that a compliment?"

Shredder laughed. "I'm calling you a machine with an 'on' button and no other controls," he explained. "Take it as a compliment if you wish."

* * *

TBC. Thanks to all who reviewed.

Pacphys: Yup, I always had Donny figured for the medical type. I was going to have Raphael help out a bit, but I think he would have a little too much fun re-breaking bones to fix them! ("Hmm, and this other arm looks a little crooked too, doesn't it? Maybe just to be safe we oughta…")


	5. Shreds of a Plan

Okey dokey, I'm going away for the weekend so no update til Monday :o(

But wouldn't it be nice of you to leave me reviews to read when I get back?

* * *

Raphael was up with the sun again the next morning. He stepped into the dojo and sure enough, there was Shredder at his morning workout.

Raphael's stomach knotted up, and he instantly regretted coming. He decided to turn around and just walk out when-

"Morning, turtle."

Well, he'd been noticed. There was no way to back out now. "Morning, kitchenware."

He set up a target, having already decided that with an audience he wouldn't be able to manage anything beyond his most basic sai-throwing drills. Raphael was actually quite good with most weapons – far better than Splinter or his brothers ever realized – but he tended to get stage fright when the chips were down.

Today was worse than ever, and he started missing almost right away. Each time the sai _clunked _in at a bad angle and clattered to the floor, he winced and tried not to look in Shredder's direction.

After the sixth miss in a row, he felt a tap on his shell.

"Hey! Don't scare me like that! I didn't even hear you." Raphael was embarrassed and it made him testy. "You know, because you're not clanking today and all."

Shredder ignored his attitude. "It's your shoulder. Relax it."

Raphael hid his surprise and just rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Coach." But then he noticed that his shoulder _was _unusually tight. When he dropped it, he hit the target on his first try.

He turned to Shredder. "How did you-"

"I train a _lot _of beginners who are afraid of me. I've gotten good at recognizing – and correcting – performance anxiety."

"Are you calling me a beginner?"

Shredder bent slowly and picked up one of Raphael's practice sais. "Do you think you can prove otherwise?"

Raphael's eyes flickered nervously to the doorway. "Splinter said you can't have weapons," he hissed. "Put that down."

"Make me." Shredder gestured with the sai. "First, close the door."

Raphael put his hands on his hips. "Make me."

In one fluid motion Shredder whirled and threw his weapon at the target. It hit a perfect bullseye, sinking in two inches deep.

Raphael closed the door.

* * *

Shredder would give a lot to learn how one taught ninjutsu from the beginning – especially to mutants. His own long-ago private lessons with a master gave him almost no clues about how to get through to a group of unmotivated adolescents like his Foot recruits. And he certainly had no idea of how one interacted with mutant animals.

Bebop and Rocksteady, thank goodness, had turned out with at least minimal thinking capacity. His other experiments had all been far less successful – animals treated with the mutagen seemed utterly incapable of assimilating anything new into their repertoire.

Shredder hoped that with a little careful prying into the turtles' training methods, he might learn something that would enable him to create some useful mutants. Maybe even a pack of turtles to battle his enemy's.

He and Raphael competed through a few exercises, but so far it seemed that the turtle's sai drills were only the usual ones. At this rate, _he _was teaching _it _more than _it_ was teaching _him_! This was no good.

"Show me something unusual," he challenged at last.

The turtle cocked its head. "Like what?"

"I have no idea. Impress me – if you can."

Raphael gathered up six sais and walked all the way across the room from the target. "Watch this!" He threw the weapons one by one in quick succession towards the ground so that they stuck in the floor quivering, handles in the air. All six had landed in a line several feet from each other, and Raphael performed a series of one-handed front handsprings through them, picking up a sai every time his hand hit the floor and throwing it every time he was right-side up again.

Each one hit the target within a few inches of dead center.

Shredder stared.

"Impressed?"

"But…but that's no use," Shredder sputtered after a moment. "In battle you would never-"

"You didn't ask for something _useful, _Ironman, only something unusual," Raphael reminded him sharply. "When it comes time for battle of course I only use what makes sense. It's just…this makes practicing more fun."

"Ah. Can the others do that, too?"

"Nah – not with sais. They have their own tricks with their own weapons."

Shredder hoped he wasn't pressing too hard, but he was getting to the good stuff and it was hard to back off. "So you mean you don't all practice with every weapon?"

"Nope." Raphael seemed too busy pulling sais out of the target to notice the intensity with which he was being questioned. "Splinter makes sure we have some basic skill, you know, but after a few years of mucking around it was obvious who was good with what. You know, like, there's no point in us carrying around four sets of katanas if only one of us likes to use them."

"I see." It was something to think about. Shredder had never even _considered_ the possibility that the turtles were trained as a unit rather than as complete individual fighters. If that was the case, then perhaps killing one of them would be enough to put the whole unit out of commission. He used to worry that killing just one turtle would backfire, infuriating the rest and setting them on a path of revenge, but now it seemed that perhaps he would be dealing a death-blow to the turtles' whole circus if he would just…

He put down the sai he was holding before the temptation got too great. Killing one now, while he was unarmed and injured in their own lair, would just not be prudent, would it? No.

He tried not to notice the way Raphael's shell stopped _just _shy of his fragile little throat.

* * *

TBC. Okay, so Shredder's not the nicest of bad guys. But hey, what can ya do? (Leave me a review, that's what.)

See you Monday!


	6. Turtles Under Siege

I'm back!

Enjoy.

* * *

That day, lunch was a little late. Leonardo and Donatello had gone out two hours ago on what should be a 45-minute errand and had _still _not returned. Even a run-in with a street gang shouldn't take so long, and Splinter was beginning to worry. Just when he was going to send Raphael out to look for them, the door flew open.

"Um, Master Splinter, we have a problem," Leonardo declared. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, panting for breath. "Donatello and I went out for groceries, and we…um…"

"We got our tails kicked," Donatello finished for him. "Those alien monsters are still out there…"

"And still have a _mondo _attitude problem." Michelangelo piped up knowingly, "and it's probably cause they're hungry. The pizzaman says he won't deliver here anymore – they keep trying to kill him."

"I was kind of hoping they would just go away, maybe starve, but it looks like they've figured something out. I mean, they are clearly alive and kicking. And biting." Leonardo turned to their guest, who was sandwiched on the couch between Raphael and Michelangelo. "Um, Shredder, do you happen to know of a way to defeat them besides hunting them down one by one? Have you got another controller someplace?"

"No. It's possible that Baxter does…but I don't think so. If he could control the beasts he would have already sent them for me."

"For you?" Raphael cocked his head. "Why?"

Shredder turned on him with a look of withering contempt. "Because he can't get _promoted _while I'm still alive. Idiot." He shrugged. "And before you ask: no, Krang wouldn't care. If I can't take care of myself I'm of no use to him. My death would simply mean one less problem for him to deal with."

"Yeah," Donatello agreed sarcastically. "That way he can pay more attention to all the _other_ important aspects of his rich emotional life."

"Yeah, like figuring out a way to eat pizza," suggested Michelangelo. "I've heard he gets fed through tubes. Gives new meaning to the word _brain food, _doesn't it?"

"That's two words, Mikey," Raphael informed him. He jumped to his feet. "But you missed the most important part of the conversation – the monsters are still out there! And _Krang _certainly won't take care of it. So _we_ should!"

"It would give us something to do," Donatello suggested. "We haven't gone topside at all lately and we're all going stir-crazy in here."

"Why haven't you gone topside lately?" Shredder asked.

The turtles looked at one another uncomfortably. After a moment, Leonardo stepped up to the unpleasant task of explaining that even after nearly two weeks of eating at the same table and watching TV from the same couch, they still didn't trust their houseguest farther than they could throw him. No, scratch that – they could actually probably throw Shredder pretty far. They didn't trust him any farther than they could throw a pizza-monster, and Leonardo only got as far as, "Well, you see, um..." before Shredder understood.

"I see." After a moment he added, "I'm flattered that you _all_ stay here because you know I could certainly beat any two or three of you at once."

Raphael crossed his arms. "The bottom line, can-head, is that if _we _leave to go monster-hunting, you have to come with us."

Shredder tried to cross his arms, too, but couldn't manage because of the sling. "I won't go monster-hunting without my armor."

Leonardo seemed a little uneasy but the broken arm reassured him. "Fair enough. I guess what you can do to help us will outweigh the dangers. But I'm warning you – any funny business and we'll kill you. Is that okay, Master Splinter?" he asked as an afterthought.

"You need _permission _to kill me?" Shredder demanded. "That's ridiculous."

Splinter finally weighed in. "Leonardo is right. You'll have your armor back, but if you betray this trust then they _will _destroy you."

"Awesome!" Michelangelo got up and performed a jubilant back handspring, then fell in a heap and tried to rub his aching back. "Ow. I'm not feeling so hot right now, guys."

"Well, we haven't been practicing especially hard lately," Leonardo reminded him. "I vote we should put off the expedition for a couple of days to give us a little time to prepare."

"Good idea," agreed Donatello. "There's no need to rush. We have tons of food in here, and we can wait until we're really ready. This mission could be dangerous, and I really need to get back in my groove. So. Who wants to do a little sparring? Raph?"

"No," Raphael said slowly, eyes glued to Shredder. "_I_ already _have_ my training partner."

* * *

"You can't train with Shredder," Leonardo said flatly. "He'll learn all our moves!"

Shredder snorted. "You fools, I already _know_ all your-"

"Be that as it may…" Splinter's voice carried effortlessly over the bickering. "I am afraid I still cannot allow you to train with my son."

"Why?" Raphael demanded. "I practice with Leo and Mike and Donny all the time. I wanna try somebody new, andI think he-"

"Because you are no match for him and it will put you in danger," Splinter explained.

"How many times must I explain this to you?" Shredder was almost shouting. "You are worse than Bebop and Rocksteady! I've already sworn up and down that I will not-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Michelangelo cut him off. "We know what you said, amigo, we just don't believe you."

"I'm sorry, but isn't that a little ridiculous?" Raphael demanded. "We _need _him in top condition to help us out against those aliens. And besides, it's not like he's been taking every opportunity to attack us when our back is turned. He served dinner the other night and I didn't see him trying to slice anybody up with the pizza-cutter. Did you?"

Actually, Shredder _had _considered attacking with the pizza-cutter, but a surreptitious check against his own skin confirmed that the utensil probably couldn't cut through a turtle. So he'd abandoned that plan.

"—Besides," Raphael continued, "If he really _is_ going to try and hurt me, it might as well be while I'm trying to fight back."

Splinter finally okayed it, with deep misgivings, and the six of them headed to the practice room.

TBC…..

* * *

A note on Shredder's workout routine and why I'm stressing his mad combat skillz: in the episode where Shredder first comes into the picture, Splinter is very clear on the point that this guy is "a Ninja master!" So I figure he must practice a lot. **TBreader: **yeah, he _does_ bust out a laser gun on occasion, but it seems like it's usually because either there was one just conveniently lying around (ie Bebop just dropped his) or he wants to threaten somebody with it. I think that's reasonable – how do you threaten people with ninja skills? "Do it or I'll shoot" works; "Do it or I'll…chop" probably doesn't.

**Pacphys**: I considered myself a fan (of at least the old cartoons and the first movie) but wow! you _really_ know your stuff.


	7. Day at the Dojo

Donatello and Michelangelo circled each other slowly. "I don't like this," Donny said without taking his eyes from his opponent's.

"What, practicing?"

"No – just the fact that Leo gets a session with Sensei and Raph's taking a private lesson from our mortal enemy and here we are by ourselves. I feel neglected."

"Dude, relax," Michelangelo advised. "Just enjoy it while we can. This is way easier. I'm sure Splinter will torture us later, if you really want him to."

But Splinter was very busy with Leonardo. So busy, in fact, that he didn't even notice when Raphael slipped out of the dojo to go fetch some things from the closet…

* * *

For a moment Raphael watched Shredder struggle to fasten his armor with only one hand. "Uh, do you need help with that?"

"No."

Raphael ignored his answer, helping to buckle shoulder-guards, wrist-guards, and the helmet. "Do you want the shin guards, too?"

"Of course. When you said _armed_ I assume you meant _fully _armed?" Shredder demanded. "I want everything I came here with. You can fight with whatever toys you choose."

It sounded fun, but Raphael hesitated. "I thought you would borrow a weapon from Leo or Mike. You can't fight with just your armor versus my sais. That's not fair – I'm armed and you're not."

"But you're also stupid, and I'm not. So it's fair," Shredder insisted.

"Don't forget, you have a serious physical handicap."

"And you have a serious _mental_ handicap." Shredder laughed softly. "I'm not afraid to fight you."

Raphael finished with the shin guards and got to his feet. He had to tilt his head pretty far back in order to make eye contact, but he managed. "Fine, but we do this _civilized_. You better not make any 'mistakes,' Shredder."

"I'll be careful. Nothing serious, and we'll only fight til first blood. Is that safe enough for you? Or should we file the edges off our weapons and wear pads, like beginners?"

Raphael sighed. "It's not funny. If I get hurt, Splinter'll come after you."

Shredder sank into a fighting stance. "Now, _there _is incentive."

Raphael twirled his sais and tried to look intimidating. It was hard, though, because he was having the time of his life and his smile just _wouldn't_ go away. "That's it, can-head, you're gonna get it!"

Shredder cracked his neck and angled himself to make the most of his one working arm. "Somehow, that threat is more effective when there's four of you delivering it…and even then, it fails to scare me, every time."

"Oh, that's _it_!" Raphael launched himself in the air, making a premature dive for his enemy. Unsurprised, Shredder spun out of the way and delivered a perfectly timed kick to Raph's midsection, winding him. Raphael couldn't get his feet under him properly and landed in a heap on the floor.

While Shredder stood over his dazed adversary with his hands on his hips, Splinter and the other turtles abandoned what they were doing to come handle the situation. They relaxed a little when it was clear that Shredder wasn't going to make a move until Raphael got up, but still…

"Um, Raph, are you ok?" Michelangelo asked slowly.

Shredder answered for him. "He's fine. He's just regretting his offer to train with me, that's all."

"Well, it _is _good practice," Donatello conceded. "Nothing like a friendly sparring match with our good friend the Shredder to spice things up, eh?"

"I was looking for an opportunity to _really_ exercise my skills before we go out fighting monsters, but so far the match hasn't been very challenging," Shredder scathed. "Perhaps we ought to break my other arm to even things up."

"Be happy to," Raphael snarled, springing to his feet. He stuck his sais in his belt and they went at it hand-to-hand for a little bit. Shredder was making excellent use of his legs to compensate for only having one useful arm, and Raphael was impressed despite himself. _I didn't think it was POSSIBLE for a guy so old to kick so hard,_ he thought as he was forcefully booted into the wall for the second time. He heard a cracking noise and hoped it was the wall and not his head.

Shredder seemed to have the same concern, and backed off for a moment until Raphael could stand on his own again. Annoyed at this proof that Shredder was going really easy on him, Raphael reached for his neglected sais and decided to get serious.

His enemy was unruffled, and only waved his claws through the air with an intimidating _whoosh_.

Now, though, Raphael had a decided advantage. One arm short of a fair chance, Shredder had to resort several times to parrying with his shoulderguards or even the armor on his shins, performing strange acrobatic maneuvers to catch Raph's blades on whatever metal protection he had.

If Raphael had been thinking instead of attacking mindlessly, he would have realized that Shredder was merely biding his time. Instead, though, caught up in the excitement and certain of victory, he made one tiny little technical error…

And that was enough for Shredder to catch his sais, one with his hand-guard and one with his helmet, and toss them off to the side. Before he could get away and grab them again, Shredder had tripped him up and come down on top of him.

There was a knee across his throat, severely restricting his oxygen supply. Still, Raph was loathe to beg for mercy, and tried to get his feet under him to buck Shredder off. It wasn't working, but no matter how hard Shredder pressed down on the turtle's neck Raphael was _still_ unwilling to cry uncle.

When it became clear that Raphael was fading, Splinter ordered Shredder to get off. Raphael lay still for a few minutes, enjoying his ability to breathe, and waited until the dancing black spots faded from his vision. "Wow," he said finally.

"You fought well," Shredder allowed. "In fact, I would _almost _say: if we were _really _fighting and you were really trying to stick me with a serious injury, I might have been worried."

Donatello whistled. "A compliment from the Shred-head. How do you like that?"

Shredder turned to him. "I said _almost_, turtle. Your abysmal track record against me suggests that no matter how imposing Raphael seems in practice, in battle I would really have nothing to fear."

"Woulda, shoulda, coulda," groaned Raphael from the ground. "Someday you'll see, tin-grin."

"Hmmm. Might be a little more convincing if you didn't just get your butt kicked," Leonardo pointed out.

"Yeah, dude. Let _me _handle this." Michelangelo twirled his chucks menacingly, then repeated: "Someday you'll see, tin-grin."

"Oh, that's good," encouraged Shredder. "Perhaps if you all practice it in unison it will have a better chance of being true."

Splinter easily governed his urge to smile. Of all the things he had expected to come of Raphael's ill-considered plan to spar with the houseguest, friendly bickering was not one of them. He hoped that it signaled a growing willingness on the part of his sons and their enemy to work together. If they were going to go after the pizza-monsters, they would certainly need it.

And as he watched Shredder sharpen his blades later that night, he hoped that the pizza-monsters would be the _only _enemy his sons had to contend with during the hunt.

The fact that every night in his sleep Shredder repeated something that sounded suspiciously like "turtle soup" was not reassuring.

* * *

TBC. Sorry this chapter took so long and sorry it was so fighty. I don't expect the next chapter to share either of those two qualities (well, maybe the fighty bit…)

Review, tell me what you think!


	8. Monster Hunt

Sorry this took forever. R/R! And then I'll hurry next time, I promise.

* * *

It took them two hours of searching to find their first pizza-monster. It was alone and they surprised it, but the results were still disappointing: Before they could do any real damage to the monster, it slashed Leonardo across the face, took a bite out of Shredder's cape, and thundered away.

And things only got worse from there.

All three of the monsters began to chase them and they had no choice but to run – Shredder said he refused to fight without a good choice of location. "If they corner us we're dead," he explained as they zigzagged through the sewers in a vain effort to lose the aliens. "We've got to make it so _we_ can surround _them_, but _they _can't surround _us_."

Michelangelo looked upwards. "Right on! And God, while you're at it," he called, "We'd also like invincibility, more weapons, and five large pepperoni pizzas."

"Not funny, Mikey," Raphael said grimly.

They stopped at a fork in the pipes. "Let's split up," Leonardo suggested. "They can't all follow all of us. Maybe they'll get confused and go away."

As plans went, it was a pretty bad one, but they were desperate. Leonardo and Michelangelo took one side. Raphael, Donatello, and Shredder took the other. Oddly enough, when the monsters reached the fork, they all headed after Leo and Mike without hesitating for a second.

The turtles (and Shredder) continued to run. They were really at a loss until Donatello found the waterlogged controller that had once been used to tell the aliens what to do. "Guys, let's abort this hunt and go home," he suggested. "It would be a lot easier just to see if I could fix this, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I'm all for that," Raphael agreed. "Let's find the others."

* * *

They found the others pretty easily, but Shredder fought the idea of returning to the lair. "There has to be something we can do," he insisted. "They aren't invincible. Raphael already killed one, remember?"

"Lucky shot, Shred-head. Don't bet on me repeating it."

"If you give me time, I _know_ I can fix this controller," Donatello argued. "Let me try. It would be really interesting."

Leonardo spoke up thoughtfully. "I'm more interested in howthe monsters keep following me," he said slowly. "I don't mean _us_, I mean _me_. When we split up they followed me and Mikey. And when me and Mikey split up, they followed me. All of them. Why?"

It was Shredder who made the leap first. "Blood. You've been cut. It smells you."

Michelangelo pointed to the trail of little droplets that Leonardo was leaving behind. "Yeah, dude, you're leaking."

Shredder's eyes narrowed. "This gives me an idea." He tried not to sound dire. "Who's up for a little experiment? I need one volunteer. Not him," he added, pointing to Leonardo. "He's lost enough blood already."

"Uh…" Michelangelo said doubtfully. The others just stared.

"Raphael, come here," Shredder barked when it looked like nobody was going to volunteer. "It will only hurt for a minute."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?" Raphael murmured, but he held still when Shredder took him by the shoulder.

Leonardo sputtered, "What do you think you're-"

"Shh." Donatello pulled him back. "I think I know what Shredder is up to. Let him try it."

"I need a container," Shredder said.

Michelangelo suggested, "Uh, lemme go check my Tupperware collection."

"Michelangelo! Be serious, will you?" Donatello looked around and shook his head. "Nothing doing, Shred-head. You'll have to use your helmet. And hurry up."

Shredder removed his helmet immediately, trying to forget all the good reasons for which he had refused to go monster-hunting without it. "Ready?" he asked Raphael.

"Yeah, go for it."

Shredder went for it. He made a single clean cut on Raphael's arm and held his helmet underneath to catch the little trickle of blood that snaked down to Raph's elbow. It soon slowed, though, and Shredder muttered, "You mutants heal too quickly."

Shredder saw Raphael nod, and took it as permission to draw his blade carefully over the same cut. Raphael smiled, knowing he was toughing it out beautifully. He didn't mind when the flow tapered off again, but this time Shredder didn't make any more cuts. Instead, he took Raphael's hand and laid it on the unbladed side of his own forearm.

"Squeeze."

Raphael did as he was told. As he tensed his muscles, blood oozed out a little faster. "You _do _know how much is safe?"

"You're fine, Raph," Donatello cut in. "It looks worse than it is. Shredder?"

"Almost done." When it seemed like he had enough, Shredder tore a piece off his ragged cape and gestured for Donatello to come tie a bandage with it. He tore off another piece to wipe his hands on, and ordered Leonardo to clean himself up as well.

Finally he was satisfied that the only enticing smell coming from their party was the bloody helmet. "We're ready. Now, who wants to be the one to run up and douse one of them?"

"Me, dude! I _totally _got this!" Michelangelo jumped up, grabbed the helmet, and ran off screaming "_Cowabunga!_"

The others followed. They rounded a corner to find him surrounded by three pizza-monsters. "Hey, ugly!" Donatello yelled. The nearest monster – and Michelangelo – turned to look. "Not you, Mikey," he groaned. "I'm talking to…you!" he threw his bo and it bounced off the alien's head.

The alien roared and came after him. "Now, Mikey!" Leonardo shouted. Michelangelo threw blood all over the creature's back, then somersaulted out of the way so the other aliens wouldn't stampede him to death as they took off after their bloody compadre.

"I'll be right back – lemme lose them!" Donatello shouted over his shoulder as he ran.

A few moments later he returned, strolling along calmly and dusting off his hands. "There," he said with satisfaction.

The turtles heard screeching and thumping and tearing from far down one of the tunnels. "Well, that should take care of one, at least," Leonardo said. "Let's wait til it sounds like they're done, and then go see about the others. If we strike right away while they're still weakened from fighting…"

"Hey," Raphael interrupted. "Where's Shredder?"

Donatello suddenly had a bad feeling. He patted his belt and gasped. "He's taken the controller! Oh, no!"

A cold laugh drew their attention up to the manhole far above them. "Up here, turtles!"

"Just where do you think you're going?" Raphael shouted. Shredder was struggling with the manhole cover at the top of the ladder. He finally got it open, scrambled up to the street above, and leaned over the edge to laugh down at them.

"Goodbye, mutants! I hope you enjoy your new neighbors. Especially once Baxter and I fix this controller, breed more aliens, and send them after you for real!"

He shook his fist at them and vanished with a swirl of cape.

"He's getting away!" Leonardo cried.

"Oh, no, he's not." Raphael leaped on the ladder and started climbing.

Donatello followed. "He isn't in the best physical condition right now. This shouldn't be hard. If only we knew where he was going…" He followed Raphael out of the sewer and onto the street.

Leonardo emerged next. "_That _way is a crowded intersection," he suggested. "I'd bet Shredder went that way, to terrorize some people on the way out."

"No way, dude, check out the, like, dark alley – that is _so _Shredder! He went that way," Michelangelo declared, pointing in a different direction. "And I can't believe he put his hat back on, that's _so _gross."

"Um, let me see which way is the quickest out of our line of vision." Donatello scanned the area briefly. "There – he probably went straight over there because he could turn down the side street fastest and we wouldn't see which way he went."

Raphael pointed to a building directly in front of them. "Who wants to bet Shredder's hiding out right there waiting for us to go on a wild goose chase?"

"Door's locked, Raph," Donatello pointed out.

"He didn't use the door – I'll bet he climbed the fire escape." Raphael seemed certain. "It's showy. It's clever. And it's something _we _wouldn't do because it would trap us on top of the roof. If we follow him up there…"

"He's toast." Leonardo drew his weapons.

Raphael thought that it would probably be difficult to scale a building with an arm injury, but it was certainly _possible _and it was just the sort of theatrical escape Shredder would like. He stuck a sai between his teeth for easy access and started to climb.

* * *

Sure enough, they caught him there on the roof, crouched in the shadows behind a huge TV satellite. "All right, Shredder, the game is up," Raphael called. He felt his brothers form up around him and his confidence soared still higher. "Now hand over that controller, or foot soldiers will spend the next two months trying to put you back together like humpty dumpty."

"That's clever compared to what you usually say to me," Shredder allowed. "But still not good enough!"

"We might say the same about your escape, tin-grin," Donatello shot back. "Now, hand over the remote or you're going to get hurt."

Shredder stepped out into the light. "I quake with fear," he grated, and they didn't need to see his face this time to know that he was smiling. He laid the remote on the ground carefully and stood up again. As he slowly stretched both arms out as wide as they would go, the wind picked up his cape and made it billow out behind him.

Michelangelo swallowed.

"Remember, guys," Leonardo said quietly, "That's all show – he can't do anything at all with his left. Just stay cool and-"

"Can it, Leo." Raphael was watching Shredder with narrowed eyes. "We don't need a pep talk. There's four of us, and half of him. If we can't take him now…"

"You can't," called Shredder. "But I suppose you're going to try anyway…"

* * *

TBC! Talk to me! 


	9. Rumble on the Rooftop

In this chapter Donatello suggests a technological thing that in real life cannot be done. However, I am cheerfully adopting the old episodes' complete disregard for the limitations of technology (for example, in the hypnosis ep where Shredder becomes Michelangelo…"holograms" of the President that somehow will be taken as the real thing?) Anyway.

* * *

The fight was a surprisingly close call.

Since Raphael knew the enemy better than his brothers did, he ran in first and the others followed a second later. Raph was to engage Shredder fully, giving the others an opportunity to put him out of commission without getting hurt themselves.

The fight went pretty well until Raphael thought to feint for Shredder's unprotected abdomen with his sai. It was a tried and true move against the old can-head, because it always forced him to drop his arms to protect against the blow, leaving his head open for Michelangelo to conk him unconscious.

This time, though, Shredder called Raphael's bluff. He ignored the sai point digging into his belly and slashed at Michelangelo when he approached.

Raphael froze. By rights he should thrust his weapon home and finish it for good, but he hesitated just a second too long while he tried to make a decision.

And Shredder lashed out with his elbow, catching Raphael squarely on the temple and dropping him like a stone.

But then, before Shredder had time to _really_ start hoping he might win the fight, in one smooth motion Donatello swept his feet out from under him and bashed him unconscious with the bo.

* * *

While Donatello knelt to check on Raphael, Leonardo hovered hover him worriedly. "Is Raph okay?"

"He's fine," Donatello assured him.

The worry vanished from Leo's voice at once. "Well, when he wakes up he's in trouble. He hesitated and it almost cost us."

"He hesitated to kill somebody, Leo," Donatello argued softly. "Master Splinter wouldn't say that's a bad thing."

"Yes, he would. I would, too. It almost got us killed."

"It did not. You saw what happened." Donatello rose and put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, Raphael gave him a break that wasn't necessary, but you know perfectly well Shredder gave one right back. He could have slashed Raph's throat and instead he just knocked him out." A nervous smile skittered over his face. "It's going to be hard for him and us to fight from now on, if we're all unwilling to hurt each other."

"I'm willing." It was clearly an effort for Leonardo to sheath his katanas. "Never mind. I'll discuss this with Splinter later. For now, we'll bring him with us. We can't let him go until we figure things out - he knows where we live. Donny, Mikey, let's go."

Michelangelo shrugged. "Whatever you say, dude. But I'm not carrying him."

* * *

Raphael woke up furious with himself. He remembered freezing up for a second in the heat of battle - that was embarrassing. And he remembered that he'd lost to Shredder again. That was also embarrassing. Worst, though, he remembered that he was alive only because Shredder had cut him some slack, and that was the most embarrassing of all.

Shredder didn't feel much better. He was awakened by a casual kick to the head, and when his vision cleared he noted that he was lying on the floor of the turtles' lair, having been dragged there after a battle that he had not won. Again.

"I'm starting to make a habit of this," he muttered.

"Wake up, you." It was Leonardo. When Shredder failed to respond satisfactorily, Leonardo kicked him again. "Donny has questions for you. You get up and answer them. You hear me?"

It took immense effort for Shredder to control himself. "Yes?" he asked with dangerous politeness. He sat up.

Donatello smiled briefly at him as if to say, _Don't worry, we're not ALL like that_. "I found this on you while I was carrying you back. What is it?"

Shredder's eyes narrowed. The turtle was holding the walkie-talkie which kept him connected to Krang and the Technodrome. Its screen had been broken for weeks and it didn't work, so he didn't really mind that Donatello had taken it. However, considering he always kept it stuffed down his pants, he was a little uncomfortable to learn that the turtle had somehow "found" it. "That's my transmitter," he said finally. "Why do you want it?"

"I want to cannibalize it for parts - it uses machinery that's similar to the controller and I could really use some of these little gears."

Shredder shrugged. "It's broken. Take it apart if you like."

"Thanks." Donatello turned to leave but suddenly had an idea. "Do you want me to fix it for you? I can probably wire it to Michelangelo's TV somehow if you need to make any calls."

"Yes, of course." Shredder said loudly, speaking over Leonardo's attempts to protest. He stood up and glowered down at the turtle. "Even in prisons people get to make a phone call."

* * *

TBC. Yes, next chapter we're finally going to see what Krang thinks of all this. Review! 


	10. No Fury Like a Ninja Scorned

**Tbreader:** June 27? I'll see if I can have it finished by then. If I keep updating the way I've been, it should be no problem (crosses fingers).

Yes, the spelling in the first line is intentional.

* * *

Leonardo hated to be a tattletail, but letting Shredder communicate with his mothership seemed like _such_ a bad idea to him that he just couldn't allow it. So, as Donatello made the finishing touches on the souped-up transmitter that would project onto a bigscreen TV, Leonardo ducked out to "use the bathroom."

He found Splinter in his bedroom, and disturbed his father's meditation for the first time since he was old enough to understand what "not now" meant.

And he was shocked when Splinter didn't see the situation as an urgent threat. "Remember what I told you, Leonardo?" Splinter asked calmly. "Information. Understanding. It's possible to learn a great deal by listening to Shredder speak to his allies." He rose slowly and took Leonardo's hand. "Come – I will go with you, just in case."

* * *

Donatello was lying on his back under the TV. "I don't know which wire. Is that is? How about _that_ one?" he was asking. Sparks were flying.

All of a sudden Krang's ugly pink face filled the screen. "Dude!" Michelangelo shouted.

As Donatello wriggled out, muttering "_there _we go," Shredder stepped up to the screen and inclined his head in what might generously be called a respectful manner.

"Krang."

The brain frowned. "Shredder? Oh dear, what an unpleasant surprise. Where have you been?"

"I was...detained."

"And are those turtles I see in the background?" Krang demanded. "Shredder! The company you have been keeping..."

A low growling sound escaped Shredder, and it was clear that he was fighting a losing battle to keep a grip on his temper. "I had no choice! Anyway, didn't you always say it would be a good idea for me to infiltrate their lair? Didn't you?" he pressed.

Krang sighed. "Well yes, but that was before I...never mind. Now that you're there, you might as well kill them. What are you waiting for? There's a turtle right behind you. Kill him first!"

Shredder whipped around, ready to obey. But then, when he saw that the turtle right behind him was Raphael, his scowl relaxed into an almost puzzled expression. "No..." he murmured, turning back to Krang. "Not that one. Let me kill one of the others instead."

Leonardo and Donatello exchanged glances. Michelangelo looked alarmed and raised his hand. "Not it!"

"WHAT?" Krang's tentacles thrashed around furiously. "Shredder, you will do as I command!" He gave him a wide, pulpy smile. "You _have_ sworn loyalty to me, after all. So you have no choice."

Shredder stamped his foot. "But that one's my _favorite_," he complained, looking for all the world like a three-year-old preparing to throw a tantrum. "It's not fair! I never get to say who to kill, and now-"

"Shredder, he's a _turtle_, you imbecile. Your sworn enemy," Krang reminded him impatiently.

"I _know_ he's a turtle, you filthy tyrant, and I _am_ going to kill him. But just...not yet," Shredder explained haltingly. "I can...I can kill the others first, see, and then do him later."

Krang's face scrunched into an even more angry expression. "I don't like this attitude, Saki. Stop arguing and do what I tell you."

This time Shredder really did lose control. "No! I won't! I refuse!" he shouted, jumping into the air and waving his arms around. "It's not fair! Every time I make a new friend, you make me kill them!"

Michelangelo was so surprised he just couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Whoa...Canhead's got _friends_?" he asked in wonder.

"No, Canhead doesn't," Shredder snapped, whirling on him, "Because they're all dead!" He faced the video screen again, chest heaving, and managed to uncurl one of his fists long enough to point at Krang menacingly. "You are lucky I can't reach you right now." His voice had become low and venomous. "But I'm coming for you. Krang, you'd better-"

"Good," Krang cut him off with satisfaction. "That will save me the trouble of finding you. You see, you're to be eliminated."

The fight went out of Shredder at once. "Eliminated?" he echoed, stunned. He sounded petulant, almost hurt. "But you need me."

"Not anymore. I'm importing a new army from Dimension X, complete with commander this time, to take over the world. They'll arrive any minute now and when they do, I'll no longer require your services. So as of this minute you're dismissed. Goodbye." Krang cut off the transmission.

* * *

"Dismissed," Shredder repeated, still not able to come to terms with the idea. 

But then Donatello went up and touched him, and he snapped right out of it. "Oh, no," he growled, throwing the turtle's hand off him. "_Nobody_ dismisses me. I'll have his head!"

"Uh, Shredder, he doesn't have one," Donatello pointed out. "And besides, I think your unemployment is the least of our problems. No offence."

Leonardo agreed with him. "Yeah, Krang is bringing in an army to take over the world with! We have to stop him!"

"I agree." Raphael stretched his aching shoulders. "Not that I'm looking forward to a fight while we're still tired from the pizza-monsters, but if we don't hurry-"

"The pizza-monsters!" Michelangelo jumped up. "Dudes! They're still there. If we go after Krang and don't come back...and dude, if he's bringing a whole army you gotta admit it could happen...then who's going to stop them from like having lots of babies and taking over the sewers?" He paused and then, to diminish the seriousness of the question, added, "Like, they could take over our rooms, and lie in my _bed_, and that would _not_ be cool."

Leonardo considered it. "If we die in the Technodrome, then we'll have failed at shutting down the portal, and Krang's army will take over anyway," he said at last. "So it really doesn't matter if we-"

"Wait," Donatello said. "Why don't I just fix the controller first? Then we could use the pizza-monsters _against_ Krang and his army. For all we know, Krang's bred more of them. Wouldn't that be great? We'd have allies. Good ones."

Raphael cocked his head. "Well, can you fix it fast?"

"Only one way to find out." Donatello retreated back into his room, leaving the others to iron out the details of the plan.

"Krang plans to bring the army immediately," Splinter noted. "This means that we will most likely be too late to stop him before he does."

"That's right," Leonardo added. "So this time, we'll have to infiltrate the Technodrome and fight through the foot soldiers _and_ these Dimension-X-ers, and _then_ hit the portal and arrange to have everything sucked back into space."

"If Donny can even do that again," Raphael added.

"Have faith, compadre," advised Michelangelo laconically. "I'm going to order some pizza...when are we leaving? The pizzaman won't come down here because of the monsters, so I'm gonna have him meet us on the way. Like where are we going?"

Leonardo's jaw dropped. "The Technodrome," he breathed, "We don't know where it is! It could take us weeks to-"

"I know." Everybody turned to look at Shredder, who hadn't spoken since the transmission with Krang had been cut. "And I'll take you there. If Krang's plan succeeds, I'll be out of a job. I can't allow that to happen."

Michelangelo laughed. "Don't tell me you're still going to work for him after he tried to have you killed, dude."

Shredder shrugged and looked away.

"Right," said Raphael sarcastically. "And we're all glad to have you on board. We really respect your motives. After all, what does the safety of the world matter anyway, when your job is at stake?" He headed for the door, obviously disgusted. "I'm going to go see how Donny's making out."

* * *

TBC… 


	11. ch11

Raph re-emerged within minutes. "Donny says it's under control. So, how do we want to do this?"

Leonardo had drawn one of his katanas and was scratching designs on the floor while he thought. "How about we shrink the remaining two aliens and bring them with us. When we get there, we split up – somebody draws off the usual guards, while the rest of us sneak into the portal room and-"

"No way, Leo," Raphael interrupted. "The army from Dimension X will all be there. Not that we can't take them, but..."

"Why don't we divide into three groups then, not two," Shredder suggested. "That way, one can draw off the Foot soldiers, and the second group can resurface somewhere in the Technodrome. Arrange to be seen. When Krang realizes there are turtles already inside, he'll panic. He'll deploy whatever he's brought from Dimension X, leaving the portal room practically unguarded. The third group will then proceed to the portal room and destroy everything."

Raphael considered it, then unexpectedly deferred to his brother. "Leo?"

"I don't trust you, Shredder," Leonardo said bluntly. "The plan's fine, but the last thing we want is you in any position to betray us. I don't want you in the portal room at any point."

Shredder didn't mind. "I'll need to be part of the second decoy group anyway," he explained, "Because it will make Krang so angry to realize I've betrayed him, that he'll definitely send his whole army to wipe us out."

"Donatello will have to be one of the ones in the portal room," Leonardo said slowly. "He ought to have backup. If I go with him…"

"I'll go with Shredder. But that will leave Michelangelo to distract the foot soldiers alone," Raphael realized.

"No," Splinter spoke up. "I think this is one mission I had better come along for. I will partner Michelangelo."

Michelangelo was currently waist-deep in pizza boxes, going through the garbage looking for a crust he knew someone had left behind the other day. "Sounds radical," he said without much interest, "But I'm like so hungry. Can we eat first?"

Shredder glanced down at the rat. "You're comfortable with having him watch your back, sensei?" he asked doubtfully.

"I have full confidence in all of my sons." Splinter was totally serene.

"That makes one of us." Shredder dismissed the problem with a wave of his hand. "No matter. _I_ have a competent partner, which is all that counts. That, and Donatello's ability to shut the portal down." He turned and addressed himself to Raphael. "How long did he say the controller will take?"

But Raphael was still too busy glowing from the compliment to pay any attention.

* * *

Making distractions was a job right up Michelangelo's alley. Still, Splinter proved pretty adaptable too, and it wasn't long before they had most of Krang's Foot soldiers chasing them in circles around the Technodrome, convinced that the facility was under attack by a large pack of mutant animals and rocks that had come alive.

Shredder and Raphael had a little bit harder of a time. Raphael insisted on scaling the Technodrome from the outside, even though Shredder knew the combinations that would open the doors. Then, when they finally got inside, Shredder suddenly remembered that _he_ had been the one in charge of hiding all the security cameras. If they stepped in front of one now, it would be obvious that he was doing it on purpose, and Krang wouldn't be fooled. Krang had to think that he'd _caught_ them – not that he was being set up.

He explained the problem to Raphael, who thought of a plan B within seconds. "So why don't we just head for the portal room ourselves? Either Krang will catch on and send the guys after us – which is the original plan – or he won't, in which case we bust in there and break some heads to ease the way for Donny and Leo."

Because he couldn't think of anything better, Shredder agreed. He led Raphael through the corridors of booby traps silently, until they reached a hallway bisected at random times and places by laser beams that issued from the walls. Raphael watched the beams for a few minutes until he figured out the pattern, then performed a complicated series of acrobatics to flip up, over, under, and around all the lasers. When he finally finished bouncing off the walls and reached the other side, he looked back with a smug smile on his face. There was no way Shredder could-

Raphael's jaw dropped. Shredder was lying calmly on the ground against the left wall. He dragged himself forwards on his belly, keeping his head down, knowing that he had about three inches between the top of his helmet and the lowest laser beams. A turtle shell, of course, would never fit through this loophole. The corridor was of Shredder's own design, and he was proud of it. When he reached the other side and stood up, Raphael rolled his eyes. "Cheater."

Instantly, bright spotlights flipped on and laser beams started to shoot crazily from every corner. Shredder hissed furiously and dragged Raphael to the single safe spot on the floor, which was two feet from the right wall and six from the far door. Shredder explained (loudly, so Raphael could hear him over the lasers that whizzed all around them) that this second part of the trap was voice-activated. Noise set it off, and noise also alerted-

"Krang." Shredder greeted his boss coldly as one of the walls slid back to reveal a large screen, which fuzzed with static.

The static cleared and the brain glared at him. "So!" he began. Shredder shut him right up.

"Don't bother – you can't scare me. We're safe in here – I designed this room myself and there are no gas valves in the ceiling and your people can't come in because if they do, the lasers will dice them."

Krang smiled. "My Dimension X warriors are immune to laser beams!" he declared. "Why don't I send them after you so you can see?" The transmission grayed out.

"Good," Shredder whispered to Raphael. "That will clear out the portal room for your brothers."

"Sure," Raphael whispered back. "But in case you're forgetting, we're supposed to escape and meet them back at the lair. And we're currently trapped by your stupid laser beams."

"Leave that to me," Shredder answered. "As long as Leonardo and Donatello don't accidentally lock down the emergency escapes while they're toying with the Technodrome's controls, we'll be fine."

Raphael didn't quite believe him, but he radio-d his brothers the OK signal anyway.

* * *

TBC. More cheesy action scenes soon to come! Review this! Cmon please? 


	12. ch12

A quick word on my conception of the Dimension X soldiers: I can't find an episode on my computer that has them in it, but I seem to remember them as big orange-reddy type things that were made mostly out of rock and wore helmets. So in this story, that's what they are.

And: review! We're approaching the end…

* * *

Donatello and Leonardo crept through the Technodrome's air vents slowly, crawling on their bellies. Leonardo had a toolkit tied to his shell, but Donatello had the more important job: he was in charge of the controller. The aliens had been shrunk to small enough to fit in the vents too, and they followed along obediently behind the turtles. When they reached the vent that led down into the control room, where Krang waited with a few Foot guards and the Dimension X portal, Donatello gestured for Leonardo to go first.

"Grab the aliens. Jump in and put them down. I'll control them from here and have them grow. They'll fight Krang's soldiers and you take care of Krang. Keep him busy and don't let him push any emergency buttons."

Leonardo nodded. "I'll tell you when it's clear to come down. You take the toolkit."

On the count of three, Leonardo burst through the vent and leaped into the control room. He dropped the miniature pizza-monsters on the ground and started to engage the Foot soldiers. After a few seconds he heard Donatello shout "GO!" and turned around to check on the monsters. They were huge and Donny was controlling them with no problem. Leonardo decided to leave the Foot soldiers to them, and he headed for Krang, who was thrashing his tentacles in rage and hitting buttons on the control panel.

Once the Foot soldiers were taken care of, Donatello dropped from the ceiling with his tool kit and went to work. It only took him a few minutes to ruin the portal so that no more Dimension X people would be able to get through, but it was work that took concentration.

Meaning he wasn't paying enough attention to the pizza-monsters, and they got away. "Donny? Where did the aliens go?"

Donatello blinked. "No idea. Who cares? Mikey and Splinter are outside already, and Raph's had plenty of time to get away too. Let's just leave the aliens here – the only people they'll endanger are Krang and his soldiers. Hey – where's Krang?"

"Take a look at this safe. Krang barricaded himself in – he hit a button and it slammed shut to protect him. Can you get him out?"

Donatello took a look at the armored case and pronounced it too much trouble. He did screw some plates over the door so that Krang would have a hard time coming out without assistance, but he decided that it wasn't worth trying to breaking it open. "Let's just go – we can deal with Krang some other time. If we're still here and the Dimension X army comes back, we're in trouble. We ought to leave them and the pizza monsters to keep each other company, don't you think?"

Leonardo smiled. "Sounds great. Let's get out of here."

Inside his armored box, Krang smiled wetly. Those turtles weren't going anywhere: he had locked down all the emergency escapes.

* * *

Leo and Donny had no trouble creating an exit for themselves by swimming through the plumbing and emerging with the dirty bathwater several sewers away.

For Raphael and Shredder, though, it was another story. When the Technodrome started emitting low beeping alarm sounds and flashing red lights, Shredder knew what had happened. "Lockdown," he whispered.

Raphael swallowed. "We're doomed."

Shredder shook his head. "Nonsense," he said sarcastically. "Doomed would be if we were trapped and had no way of fighting back. In this case, we may be trapped, but all we have to do is kill the entire Dimension X army, kill the aliens, and escape. It shouldn't be too hard."

"Oh, is that all?" Raphael demanded, even more sarcastic. "Well in that case, maybe we should just lie down here and take a nap, since it's going to be so easy. We should just lie down and not even try, is that what you're saying? Just give up?"

Shredder threw up his hands. "If you have an idea, by all means give it to me. But I won't be taken to Dimension X as a slave. I'll kill myself first."

"Okay, now you're just being dramatic," Raphael scolded. "I may not be the brightest guy in the planet, but I know a one-option scenario when I see one. And this time, our one option is to fight. You're right – we'll have to kill everything." He drew his sais and tried not to feel thrilled about the impossible fight that was coming. "We make our stand right here."

Shredder rolled his eyes. "Are you so eager to die? We have no chance here and you know it. Location is half the battle."

"Do you know a better location? How about Hawaii?"

"Yes, I do. There's a training room on this floor. My training room. I think we can make it there before the Dimension X army catches up with us. _If _we get out of these lasers now." He closed his eyes and tried to remember the pattern he had set for the trap. "Follow me." He started slowly, taking one step left, three forward, pause two three and then a quick duck and hop right…

Raphael followed him, expecting every minute to get cut down by three or four laser beams at once, but to his great surprise they made it safely to the other side. Once they were out of danger, Shredder grabbed him by the wrist and started to run.

Raphael wondered what was so good about a training room, but he was so busy trying to catch up he couldn't ask. "Not fair – your legs…longer…" he grunted, sprinting for all he was worth.

All of a sudden Shredder stopped short and Raphael slammed into him. "Wait," Shredder gasped, "What about the monsters? We need to know where they are. We can't leave them running wild through the Technodrome – starting tomorrow, I live here!"

"Oh, come on," Raphael whined. "Forget the monsters. They might not even be here anymore. Donny and Leo might have taken them home with them."

"Have you and your brothers ever cleaned up after yourselves? Ever?"

"Maybe you're right," Raphael conceded, "But we don't have the remote. We can't control them."

Suddenly Shredder had an idea. "Oh, yes, we can."

Raphael backed away.

* * *

The cuts on the bottoms of his feet actually made it _easier_ for Raphael to run fast, because putting his foot down each step hurt so much that he was quick to jerk it back up again. He was leaving a trail of bloody footprints that would hopefully be enough to lure the pizza-monsters to come after them. Even though the Technodrome's air conditioning system meant it might take the monsters a while to figure out where the smell was coming from, without the controller it was the only method of calling the aliens that they had. (Raphael's suggestion of a doggie whistle did not go over too well).

The downside of leaving footprints, though, was that it gave the Dimension X soldiers something easy to follow. They were much faster on their feet, and so by the time Shredder and Raphael reached his room they could hear loud stone footsteps behind them.

Shredder opened the palm lock and let the door slam behind them. "They're mostly stone, but you can see soft stuff poking out where their joints are," he informed Raphael, heading towards a closet on the far wall. "Don't bother aiming for the head, it's stone, but you can get the neck, armpit, elbows, groin if you must. They're highly allergic to our metals, so almost every hit will be a kill."

He decided on a sword for himself, then beckoned Raphael over to the closet. "Here. But if you hit me, I'll kill you." He dragged out a huge rack of sais.

"Wow." Raphael picked up one of the weapons reverently. "This is really light. I bet I could probably-"

"You could? Well why don't you try now?" Shredder interrupted, keeping his voice under control only with effort. The door to the room had started to shudder under the weight of huge stone arms pounding away at it.

Shredder headed towards the door, hoping to stand next to it and hack the Dimension X soldiers to pieces as they came through.

He didn't get the chance though, because while he was still standing out in the open, three of them burst through the wall itself, and charged.

They were easily twice as tall as Raphael, and he tried to tell himself that that was a good thing. Bigger targets, he thought. He hit the first two fairly easily, while Shredder dealt with the third, and then watched in fascination as they started to bellow and thrash around, sizzling and seeming to melt from within. Shredder kicked their legs out from under them as they staggered, making sure to avoid their flailing stone arms, furious because his sword had already broken off inside one of them.

More came and as he started to engage them, he calmed down immediately. Hand-to-hand combat was so comfortingly _familiar_ that he wondered what on earth had possessed him to pick up a sword in the first place.

Raphael let loose with sai after sai, amazed that all the adrenaline didn't send his accuracy straight to hell. He paid careful attention to what Shredder was doing – that way, he could anticipate moves that would force an enemy to raise an arm or leg, and then target the exposed joint for a sai shot. It was all going well until Raphael forgot himself and landed one straight in a Dimension X soldier's face. Being made of stone, the soldier didn't seem to mind, and it lurched on towards him, the first one of its kind to have realized that the real threat was coming from someplace other than Shredder.

Raphael tried to throw another one but it went wide. The creature yanked the sai out of its forehead. Too busy trying not to get stepped on, Raphael didn't even realize what it was doing until it jammed the weapon into his shoulder.

Shredder looked over to see what was taking Raphael so long. Aha – he had a sai stuck in his shoulder, was bleeding all over the place, and was cowering on the ground before a huge, infuriated Dimension X soldier. That explained it.

Shredder reached down, wrenched a sai out of the body of one of the dead soldiers, and threw. He didn't trust himself to hit a joint on the first try, and there wouldn't be time to try twice, but a shot at the creatures' broad back was basically a sure hit. The Dimension X soldier turned around, enraged that he had been stabbed again, and Raphael took the opportunity to pull the sai out of his own shoulder and slam it home between the enemy's legs.

"That's the grossest thing I've ever done," he murmured.

Shredder was more concerned about all the bleeding. "Plug up that hole – I need that," he reminded his partner. "I can't control the aliens otherwise."

"Gee, and I never knew you cared," Raphael fumed. "Don't go turning into an old mushbucket on me." A Dimension X soldier had come up right behind Shredder, and Raphael took him out with a shot to the neck.

Shredder put his hands on his hips. "That almost hit me," he complained. "Would you watch what you're-"

"Cry me a river, Canh- Hey! Look out!"

Shredder didn't even have time to answer – he was being picked up into the air by an eleven-foot-tall Dimension X soldier. He was slammed down to the ground headfirst, and didn't get back up.

Raphael was concerned despite himself. "Shredder?"

* * *

Shredder came to a few seconds later. The Dimension X soldiers were bypassing him in favor of the enemy who was still throwing sais at them and picking them off one by one. The turtle was running out of ammunition, though, and in any case he couldn't fight the last four or five by himself, could he?

_You have to get up. _Shredder dragged himself to his knees, dizzy and nauseous. _Do not vomit into the helmet_, he ordered himself. He couldn't put weight on his left arm, and he figured it had probably been broken again when he fell, but he managed to crawl forward and slice a soldier neatly through the ankle. Another looked down at him and he drove his claws into its knee, rolling out of the way to avoid being crushed as it flopped messily to its death. He grayed out for a moment again, and when he woke up again there was no sign of Raphael anywhere.

Shredder lurched to his feet.

* * *

TBC soon. Tbreader, I'm sorry! I really did want to have it done for you before you left! 


	13. Chapter 13

Shredder found Raphael buried under a pile of bodies. His shell had protected him when the Dimension X rock-people fell on him, but he still wasn't exactly with it when he got up. "What happened?" Raphael asked groggily.

"That's what _I_ was going to ask _you_."

Raphael thought. "You were down, then up, then down again. The first time there were still four or five and I threw at them…the second time there was just one…I came and stood over you…it picked me up. That's all I remember."

"Well, did you kill it?" Shredder demanded.

"I don't know." Raphael was a little irritated. "I was too busy not letting _it_ kill _you_. Figures, doesn't it? I finally get the chance to pay you back, only you're not even awake to see it."

Shredder answered "Mmmm," clearly not paying attention. He was scanning the room to make sure the last Dimension X soldier had indeed been killed.

"I _did_ do it, you know," Raphael persisted. "It went for you, and I-

"Help me look around. Get up. Come on – what are you waiting for?"

"I dunno – maybe a _thankyou_?"

Shredder rolled his eyes. "You'll be waiting a long time. Now, did you kill the thing or not?"

Raphael rolled his eyes right back. "Some partnership," he muttered.

Shredder gestured to the piles of bodies surrounding them. "I put my _life _in your hands," he argued. "What more do you want?"

"Oh…uh…right." Raphael tried to pay attention to what Shredder had asked. "Um…my sais are gone," he noticed, "And I didn't throw them. So I must have-"

"There," Shredder interrupted. He pointed to one of the bodies that had two sais jammed into its neck. "Those are yours. It picked you up and you did that. Good job."

"Thanks." Raphael tried not to feel too pleased with himself. "Let's get out of here."

Shredder shook his head. "We haven't dealt with the aliens yet. And there's more – it's been long enough that the Foot soldiers will be back from whatever wild goose chase the rat thought up."

Raphael winced. "Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but I'm not sure I'm up for another fight right now. What do you think we should do?"

"While I hate to quote you…I do know a one-option scenario when I see one. We fight them, obviously."

"I was kind of hoping you weren't going to say that."

Shredder ripped apart his cape and helped Raphael tie bandages. "You're wasting all that blood, and we need it," he explained.

"That's another thing I was kind of hoping not to hear." Raphael cocked his head. "And speaking of hear…What's that? Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" The pizza monsters had finally picked the right floor and were rampaging loudly somewhere a few corridors away, but Shredder pretended he didn't hear. Maybe if he ignored the stomping, chomping sounds, they would go away.

"Look on the bright side," Raphael suggested. "We _did _want to kill them…"

"But we'll need the Foot soldiers to help with that. Come on – run. We've got to lose them until we've found the Foot soldiers. Then we can trick them into killing each other." He dragged Raphael down the corridor until they came to a door marked with a big red X. "This wing is under construction," he explained. "Meaning it's big, open, and Krang hasn't booby-trapped it."

"No interference. We fight fair and square."

"_They_ fight fair and square," Shredder corrected. "_We _just kill whoever's left at the end." He looked over his shoulder to smile at Raphael, then added, "Leave the door open behind you so the Foot will see where we've gone." He opened the door and, still looking at Raphael rather than at where he was going, took a step.

"No!" But Raphael was too late to stop him.

* * *

TBC. I am away in California all this week…and I still updated! How's that for dedication? Review for me, willya? 


	14. Chapter 14

What Raphael saw in the new wing was: nothing. The "construction" in the Technodrome apparently involved removing the floors of at least three levels, leaving a great black nothingness broken only by a few pipes and beams that still stretched across the abyss. Luckily, Shredder had managed to grab on to one of those.

Raphael went after him to try and pull him up, but they slipped. They grabbed frantically to whatever they could. Raphael ended up clinging to a pipe with both hands, with Shredder below him, his one good hand hanging on desperately to the turtle's ankle.

"Okay…okay…relax." Raphael's voice was shaking. "It's okay. It's fine, we're doing fine. Are you okay?"

Now was not the time for sarcasm, so Shredder resisted his impulse to shout, _No, I'm dangling over a billion-foot drop, you idiot!_ He gritted his teeth. "Yes but I can't climb up with one hand."

"I know." Raphael closed his eyes and pretended there was not two hundred pounds of dead weight hanging on to his legs. He raised his knees to his chest, feeling something snap in his stomach. _There goes the six-pack_, he thought ruefully. _I hope a five-pack doesn't look too stupid._ He couldn't hold the position for long, so he let go of the pipe with one of his arms and reached down. "Takemyhand," he grunted. He grabbed Shredder's wrist.

Knowing that this was the best-case scenario – that two strong men gripping each other's forearms was one of the least futile ways to hang on for your life – did not make Shredder feel much better. He could do nothing but watch, with the sort of helplessness you usually only experience in nightmares, as Raphael struggled to hang on with one arm. The turtle's biceps were each about as big as his head, and Shredder didn't think willpower would be a problem, so it wasn't likely that Raphael would give out or give up. Still, that left…

"I'm slipping," Raphael gasped. "Shredder – I can't hold this for long. You'll have to climb. Ready?"

_Ready for what? Climb like how?_ Shredder just nodded, remembering not to look down. Suddenly, Raphael curled his powerful arm, which lifted Shredder enough that if he used every bit of strength he possessed, he could lift his hips high enough to throw his legs up around the turtle's neck and shoulder. _Even better_, he thought. _Now I'm upside down, too._

Immediately, Raphael let go of his hand in order to use both arms to re-grip the pipe. Shredder sat up on Raphael's shoulders and dragged himself up onto the pipe with his one good arm. Once he was safe, he lay down flat, hugging the pipe with both arms and legs.

He didn't want to move. "Hey," Raphael said after trying without success to pull himself up too. "A little help here?" Although terribly reluctant to let go, Shredder managed to offer the turtle a hand and help him scramble up. Once they were both safe, he went back to clinging desperately, while Raphael sat up, legs dangling casually over the abyss. "Ow. I think I pulled something. Hey – are you okay?"

Shredder had his cheek pressed against the pipe and his eyes squeezed shut. He was panting, as though he'd just run a mile or…

"Um. Are you afraid of heights?" Raphael asked suddenly.

* * *

Shredder nodded his head a fraction of an inch, past the point of caring if Raphael would make fun of him.

"Oh, lordy." Raphael took a deep breath. "Come on, tin-grin, you can't give out on me. You have to be tough for like twenty more seconds and then we're out of here."

Shredder still didn't open his eyes. "What do I have to do?" he whispered, too choked up to even talk properly.

"Creep forward. Can you creep forwards? It's easier if you sit up, like this." He swung one leg over so that he was straddling the pipe, not sure whether that would be comfortable for a human male and not really caring. "Come on. Up. Get up. Now."

Finally, Shredder convinced himself to release his death-grip so he could sit partway up and get moving. His armor – yes, he wore armor _there_, what kind of idiot wouldn't? – clanked against the metal as he inched forwards. He was doing okay until he made the mistake of looking down. Once that disaster had occurred, it was all he could do to hang on and stop himself from fainting.

Raphael found it really alarming, the way Shredder was swaying – almost like he had no idea what was going on and was about to pass out. So Raphael scooted right up behind him and settled an arm firmly around his waist, trying not to be jealous of how warm he was (lucky humans!) "Open your eyes," he ordered patiently. "Look, I've got you, I'm right behind you. You won't fall if you watch where you're going. Come on."Shredder finally took a deep breath and started moving. Raphael stayed glued to him, steadying him whenever he started wavering again. Finally, they reached a pipe that ran from the floor to the ceiling. "Follow me." Raphael let go of Shredder and slid down it like a fireman's pole. When he looked up and saw that Shredder had reverted back to lying flat and clinging to the horizontal pipe, he sighed. Was it really possible that Shredder couldn't-

Shredder could. (But barely.) He wound his legs properly around the vertical pipe, but had to stop and hyperventilate for a few minutes before he could force himself to let go and slide. He held his breath, panicking the whole way down. He landed in a heap and before he could even get up and re-orient himself, he passed out from lack of oxygen.

* * *

Furious that his hero had just fainted like a girl, Raphael shook him far harder than was necessary to wake him up. "Okay, that's just ridiculous. Wake up. Wake up, chicken. Hey!"

Shredder's eyes opened. "Where am I? What happened?"

"You fell from a very, very tall place," Raphael lied. "And I'm going to drop you from it again unless you pull yourself together and get going."

"I remember now." Shredder frowned. "If you breathe so much as a word-"

"Lips are sealed," Raphael assured him, "As long as I never hear the words _foot_ and _cut_ and _cry_ come out of your mouth in the same sentence."

Shredder dismissed the thought with a wave. "Don't worry. But…speaking of _cut_… we're going to need more blood. Come over here."

Raphael looked alarmed. "Oh, no. Like definitely not." He scrambled backwards.

"You're acting like a child," Shredder complained. "Would you just hold still and-"

"No!" Shredder swiped at him and Raphael ducked, then drew his sais just in case the old can-head persisted.

The old can-head persisted. Raphael found himself defending himself in earnest, and managed to lock his weapon with Shredder's blades. "Stop it," he gasped, using every bit of strength he had to hold the blades away from his face as Shredder pressed down on him. "We're friends, remember? You can't cut people without permission!"

"I'll give you _permission_," Shredder growled, throwing him to the ground. Raphael jumped up and started to climb the pipe they had just slid down. From a safe distance of fifteen feet in the air, he looked over his shoulder hopefully. "Look, you _do _know I hate to beg you, but I-"

"I'll kill you!" Shredder raved, certain that he was being made fun of. How _dare _the turtle take refuge in a high place! He jerked off one of his shin guards and hurled it, but it only stuck in Raphael's shell and quivered there for a few minutes. Not quite so far gone that he would throw away any more armor, Shredder tried a new threat: "I'll build a fire under you."

"Can we talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about! You lunatic turtle – look! It doesn't even hurt!" Totally beside himself with fury, Shredder reached across his body with his right hand and slashed himself open from the shoulder to the wrist. "See?" Blood squirted all over the place.

Raphael stared down at him and tried not to notice the crazy light in his eyes. "You know, if you're trying to get me to feel safer about this, that's really not the way." He sighed. "But I guess if we have no choice we have no choice."

He jumped down and landed on his feet.

"That's better," Shredder growled. He took hold of Raphael's wrist to hold him still. "And I take back what I said about it not hurting." He raked his claws none too gently down Raphael's upper arm and smiled grimly when the turtle winced.

* * *

Raphael made a horrible sound and pulled away. "No!" he gasped. "Look at this – you're out of control!"

"Nonsense," Shredder said firmly. He was busy decorating himself liberally with mutant's blood. When he did take a step back to see what he'd done, though, he had to rethink things. "Okay…I'll handle this, all right? Just…just lie down and wait. The pizza-monsters won't bother you – I'm wearing more of your blood than you are." And he was right. He looked like the perpetrator of a chainsaw massacre and it didn't seem to bother him one bit. "Sit down."

Shredder had turned away as he spoke, so he didn't notice that Raphael's motions looked more like falling than sitting. He _did _notice that the turtle didn't look nearly as green as he ought to…but it could certainly be a trick of the light, couldn't it?

* * *

TBC. Still in California. Review for me! Pleeeease? There's a hit counter now, so I _know _you're there lurking. Gotcha! 


	15. Chapter 15

In a few minutes Raphael was completely passed out, and Shredder tried to avoid feeling guilty. The fact that the turtle was unconscious would actually make the next part of the day much easier, he reminded himself. For both of them. With a turtle by his side there was no way he could negotiate with Foot soldiers, but with Raphael out of the picture there was a chance that they might opt to side with him, first against the aliens and eventually against Krang. That was definitely better than just letting them all get killed.

Shredder hid Raphael under a tarp and rehearsed his story. When the Foot soldiers came, he delivered it without a hitch. They were still wavering – was he really on their side or was Krang right about him – when the monsters showed up. "See?" Shredder said immediately, gesturing to them. "I'll prove it to you. If I was betraying you I'd leave you alone with these beasts. Instead, I'll help you kill them."

Working with Raphael had made Shredder realize exactly how incompetent his Foot soldiers actually were, and he was determined to get more satisfactory henchmen as soon as possible. So, even though human decency suggested he make an honest effort to save their lives if possible, he decided it wasn't too big a deal if the Foot soldiers here all got converted to monster chow. He backed into them. "Aim for those things' eyes," he ordered, positioning himself so that there were at least three or four warm bodies between him and the rampaging creatures. Within seconds the aliens were upon them, stepping on Foot soldiers left and right in an effort to get at their favorite meal. Body parts were soon flying through the air and the Foot soldiers were beginning to panic. "Focus on one at a time!" Shredder shouted. "Kill that one first! All together…that's it…come on, get up, it's only a leg…keep going! Forget about him, you have lots of brothers…that's it, climb! – watch the spikes….oh, ouch, that must hurt..."

He kept moving through the throng of soldiers, hoping to disguise the fact that he (being the only one covered in turtle soup) was the monsters' prime target. He coached his men through one alien and cheered when it went down. But then, as they re-formed to fight the second alien, it lashed out with its huge tail, bashing six or seven people into a wall and knocking them all out at once. The handful that remained standing gave up. They turned and ran, leaving Shredder alone with the last living monster. He stared after them resentfully for a moment before turning to face his enemy and get down to business.

Shredder crouched low, watching its tail. "Go ahead," he muttered. "Try." If the thing swung its tail again, he would just duck and come up under it. Its baby-making days would be over.

Unfortunately the alien didn't attack with its tail. Instead, it just charged at him, mouth open and claws out.

For lack of a better plan, Shredder charged too. They ran head on at each other, and as they were about to collide Shredder leaped into the air, somersaulting forwards and landing straddled on the alien's snout. The alien was bellowing and shaking his head around. It was like the bucking bronco from Hell.

Luckily Shredder didn't have to stay mounted for too long. The monster was cross-eyed because it was trying to glare at him, which caught Shredder's attention. Aha. Cross-eyed. Eyes.

"_KI-AAA!_" He drove his claws straight in, sinking his arm as deep as the elbow. The monster went rigid, teetered, and crashed to the ground with Shredder still on top.

When he was satisfied that it was really dead, he pulled free from the steaming eye socket and went to go find Raphael before the Foot soldiers came back.

* * *

The turtle was unconscious. Since they had to get out before the Foot soldiers came back with reinforcements, they were in need of an immediate exit. Shredder dimly recalled having seen the plans for this wing, and seemed to remember which wall might lead outside. He revved up some machinery – he was no construction worker but he _thought_ it might be a bulldozer – and aimed it at the wall and set it on autopilot. The vehicle clunked forwards, plowed through with horrible screechy metal sounds, and crashed to pieces a hundred feet below. Shredder moved cautiously to the hole and peeked out. He sighed. How nice: they were pretty damn high in the air.

* * *

TBC. It looks like only about two more chapters. So please, if you've been lurking, now's the time to pop in and say hi! 


	16. Chapter 16

Raphael opened his eyes. "Why are you upside down?" was the first thing he thought to ask. "Oh...wait, am _I _upside down?" He could feel a rope around his ankles.

"Yes." Shredder was unbuckling one of his shoulder guards. "If you want to keep somebody conscious while you're t-... Uh, I mean while they're bleeding heavily, you hang them upside down."

Raphael tried to think. "Yeah, blood to the brain and all that, I get it. Where am I?"

"Outside the Technodrome. I put a hole in the wall, lowered you by a rope, and then climbed down."

"You climbed down? But I thought-"

Shredder cut him off. "I didn't say I climbed down _easily_ or I climbed down _joyously_..." Raphael skill looked politely skeptical, so Shredder got defensive. "Look, I don't go to pieces _every_ time. What happened earlier was because I was taken by surprise and I was in danger and I even looked down. But it's usually not so bad - I can be in high places if I need to be. I climb things all the time."

That was true. At the idea that Shredder had voluntarily rappelled down the side of the Technodrome despite a serious fear of heights, Raphael felt a warming tendril of hero-worship returning.

"I'm going to cut you down now. Cover your head." Shredder threw his shoulder guard to sever the rope. Raphael pulled his head inside his shell as he crashed to the ground. He heard Shredder ordering him to stand up, and ignored it. It was comfortable enough. He could sleep here.

* * *

Shredder kicked at the turtle softly and determined that he was definitely out again. Well, in that case, there was nothing to do but carry him. He had to struggle a bit to get Raphael across his shoulders with only one hand, but he managed.

Raphael was surprisingly light, and Shredder tried hard to avoid gruesome thoughts about why that might be the case. He was also ice-cold, but Shredder reminded himself that turtles were _supposed_ to be cold. He set off the way they had come.

It was dark and cold and a long way, because Leonardo had insisted that they take a winding route to keep Shredder from finding the lair easily again later. Luckily, tracking turtles had always been a favorite pastime of Shredder's, and he was able to correctly identify which scuff marks on the dirty walls were made by shells. Sometimes it was dark, and he had to go by smell: the lingering odor of blood and pizza in some places, and in others the simple fact that this particular place smelled _so_ bad that there was no way he could have passed this way before and not remembered it.

The whole time, there was not a sign of life from Raphael. Just as he was beginning to consider the possibility that the turtle's infinite luck had finally run out, though, he passed some graffiti that was definitely familiar. He was almost there.

When he reached the door to the lair, he immediately began to shout and bang his head against it. He didn't have a free hand to knock, and didn't really trust himself to stand on one foot to kick. The door was opened within seconds, and Shredder dumped Raphael into the first pair of arms he came across. _Please, not Michelangelo_, he thought.

"Dude!" It _was_ Michelangelo, and he dropped Raphael into a heap onto the floor. The other turtles swarmed around him and Donatello reached for his neck to look for a pulse.

Shredder found himself furiously angry that they did not work some immediate magic that would bring Raphael to his feet. "Well?" he demanded. "Do something. Is he alive?"

Donatello didn't want to waste time. "Where's he hurt?"

"Everywhere. Cuts, he got knocked out a few times, a sai through the shoulder..."

"None of the weapons were poisoned? What you see is what you get?"

"Right."

The turtles were so worried about their brother that nobody bothered to tell Shredder he wasn't looking so good himself. And they didn't really care when he passed out, too.

* * *

Leonardo stared down at the bathtub. "Is he going to be all right? He's been in a hibernation coma before..."

Donatello hesitated. "Ordinarily I'd say sure he'll pull through - he's Raph. But this time I honestly don't know. It's been two hours and he's not waking up at all."

"What can we do for him?" Leonardo has his voice under tight control.

"Nothing. Splinter and I closed all the cuts, and the transfusion from Michelangelo should help. He's in a warm bath. There's not much else we can do but wait."

"Dude, I hate to bring this up - and I am _not _offering another blood donation," Michelangelo added quickly, "...but don't you think you should take a look at Shredder? He's still snoozing in the doorway."

Leonardo suggested that, as Shredder was still breathing and bleeding, they should push him outside into the sewer so he wouldn't die in the house.

Splinter did not look happy with the suggestion. He ordered Leonardo to stay with Raphael, and went with Donatello to see what was going on.

* * *

Donatello hated to distract Splinter while he was sewing, but he had to point out: "Sensei, those cuts...those were his own blades."

Splinter had noticed already. What was odd was that Shredder had slashed up himself and his partner _deliberately_ - these did not at all resemble accidental little scratches you might inflict on yourself in the heat of battle. And Raphael had had a sai through his shoulder...his own sai? "There is no point in guessing what happened until one of them wakes up," Splinter answered without taking his eyes from his work.

"Not to be pessimistic, but my money's on Shredder," Donatello said.

Right on cue, Shredder's eyes flew open. "Bad timing, dude," laughed Michelangelo, watching the needle.

"Yeah, there's a lot more stitches to go," Donatello agreed. "Can we give him anything?"

"Our tranquilizers came from a pet store, dude, so that's probably, like, not okay. But check this out! I can go topside, there's a dentist right around the corner and I can pick up some nitrous oxide. Laughing gas, dude! But more important, he's been walking around in a sewer and it's not exactly strerile down here. Lucky I have some penicillin, a full course of it actually. That's a human antibiotic." Even Splinter looked up, eyebrows raised. Michelangelo continued, "And if we're worried about fever - _duh_ - all we have is Tylenol, but it's the radical kind the hospital gives out. So even if that happens I think we're okay."

Donatello's jaw dropped. "Mikey?"

"What?" asked Michelangelo, "You think we should give him the Tylenol now?"

* * *

As soon as Shredder was up and about and had time to rehearse his story, he told the turtles what had happened. His narrative was liberally sprinkled with phrases like "And because you all _left_ us...fought these things _alone_...outnumbered...no plan in case of emergency...by _ourselves_..."

No one argued with his version of events. Yes, he had failed to explain why exactly he'd cut his partner badly enough to kill him, but on the other hand, he had brought Raphael home and was now showing at least as much concern for him as for himself.

His only question about his own condition was, "Will this heal eventually?" ("You might lose a little range of motion-" Donatello said cautiously, and Michelangelo added: "But you'll have _wicked_ scars, dude!") And after that he insisted on planting himself in the bathroom next to the tub to wait for Raphael wake up.

After hours of sitting in silence, Splinter decided to clear the room. "It's late. I will stay here by Raphael, and the rest of you need to get some rest."

The turtles stood up obediently but Shredder refused. "_You _sleep," he argued. "I want to stay."

Splinter considered. "We will take turns," he said finally. "You can go first if you wish. Wake me up in one hour."

Shredder, of course, had no intention of sharing the watch with anyone, but at three AM he finally admitted to himself that he needed a nap. He knelt down on the cold floor, crossed his arms on the rim of the tub, and fell asleep with his bandages as a pillow.

* * *

TBC. Last chapter (I think) coming up soon. 


	17. Chapter 17

When Shredder woke up a few hours later, there was still no change in Raphael's condition. He rose, stretched, and headed over to the sink to make himself presentable. It took a bit of awkward crouching to see himself in the mirror that was placed at mutant-height, but he could see enough to know that stubble didn't do much for his looks.

Then, from behind him: "You _shave _with those?"

Shredder gasped, jumped, and cut himself. He was annoyed at being cut, and glad that the turtle was finally awake, but he managed not to express either. "Don't you think it would be a little silly for me to carry a razor?"

He finished up, then came and sat down next to the tub. "The others are asleep. Do you want them? Stop moving. Stop talking."

"M'not moving. M'not talking. Yeah, I want Splinter." But then, when Shredder rose, Raphael made an uncoordinated grab for him. "Wait…stay."

Shredder sat back down. "Don't try to get up. Your injuries are very serious."

Raphael blinked, then finally thought to ask. "Where am I?"

"In the tub."

"In the lair?"

"Where else?" Shredder snapped. "Do you mean to tell me you can't recognize your own bathroom?"

"Well, sorry for being a little out of it, Can-head," Raph snapped back. He paused. "What are _you_ doing here, anyway? Shouldn't they have left Leo or somebody _responsible_ to watch me?"

"Fine. I'll get someone. Want to come with me? Oh, wait, I forgot, you can't even stand up by yourself. Stay here." Shredder rose.

"No don't go." Shredder sat back down. "How did I get back here?"

"You skipped home, singing and dancing the whole way. How do you think, you idiot?" Shredder took a deep breath and finally got his tongue under control. "Sorry. It's been a hard night. Let me wake the others."

"You carried me?"

Raphael's eyes were clearing. He was looking more lucid and together, but Shredder effectively hid his relief. "Oh, what a _clever_ mutant."

"Oh, what a _funny_ can-opener."

Before the argument could progress further, it was interrupted by the bathroom door banging open. "Raph! You're awake!"

"Gee, Leo, I hadn't noticed."

Leonardo stepped into the room and glared. "Shredder, you shouldn't be exciting him like that. And I can't believe you didn't come wake us up like you were supposed to. Raph, you-"

"Shut up," Raphael and Shredder snarled simultaneously.

Leo looked offended. "I'm going for Splinter. Don't go to sleep, Raph, until he tells you it's okay."

Once Leonardo had gone, Raphael rolled his eyes. "See that? I even need permission before I can _pass out_, for pete's sake." But two seconds later, he was already snoring.

* * *

Leonardo returned a few minutes later with Splinter and Donatello in tow. While the two of them began fussing over Raphael and making plans to transfer him out of the bathtub, Leonardo grabbed Shredder by the hand and led him to the door. "I'm sure Raphael will appreciate that you stuck around to see that he woke up," he said insincerely, "But he's fine now and you can go. So go, all right?"

Somewhat taken aback at the rude dismissal, Shredder allowed himself to be ushered out without too much fuss. Leonardo slammed the lair door behind him, and he stood stupidly for a few minutes before finally getting himself in gear to start moving.

He and Raphael had left a very clear trail of blood that should be easy to follow back to the Technodrome, but Shredder didn't feel like heading home just yet. Instead, he decided to go for a walk. He couldn't exactly go topisde looking like he did now, but in the last few weeks he'd become comfortable enough down below to wander the sewers without fear of getting lost.

He felt odd, all things considered. He was glad that Raphael was all right, irritated that he had been thrown out without a chance to say goodbye, and not at all happy that he wouldn't be seeing Raphael any more except on the battlefield.

Shredder frowned. He was not used to denying himself something he wanted, and right now he wanted his friend back. His leisurely stroll soon turned into frantic pacing as he considered his options. Generally, he preferred to rush into things with a half-baked plan that had only the smallest chance of success, but this time he thought there might be a better way. He would probably only get one chance, and he had to do it right while the enemy was too weak to resist.

What an idiot he had been, to bring Raphael home in the first place. He'd just made himself a whole lot of extra work, as it would now be necessary to kidnap the turtle out from under the noses of his worried family. But he could do it. All he needed to do was get back into the lair somehow and hide - that shouldn't be difficult – and wait until Raphael was awake and demanding privacy. As soon as the other turtles left the sickbed, Shredder could just knock Raphael out again and carry him back to the Technodrome.

But when he really thought about it, Shredder had to admit that maybe it wasn't the best idea in the world. Raphael would probably start trying to escape as soon as he was back on his feet again, and while keeping him always bled to the edge of death might work to  
make him more manageable, it would also defeat the entire purpose of taking him prisoner in the first place.

He sat down heavily. One of the perks of being a ninja was that while he did spend much of his time in a rage and did run the constant risk of bodily injury, disappointment and heartache were not usually a part of his day.

Shredder decided he preferred the bodily injuries. At least you knew how to prevent and cure them.

Donatello found him still sitting there an hour later. "Raph's awake again. And he's asking for you."

* * *

When Shredder arrived, Raphael was in bed, very thoroughly bandaged up. "Way to skip out while I'm sleeping, Tin-grin."

Shredder shrugged. "Your brothers insisted." He realized this might be the last time he got to talk to Raphael without being uncomfortably close to the wrong end of his sais, and much as he hated it, there were things that needed to be said. He turned to the other turtles. "Go away. I want to talk to Raphael alone."

"Why?" Leonardo demanded, shooting a suspicious glance Shredder's way.

Shredder hesitated. "Because," he said after a moment, staring meaningfully at Raphael, "He's been waiting a long time for something, and I think he's waited long enough."

It only took Raphael a second to understand. -_What are you waiting for? -A thankyou._

_-You'll be waiting a long time.  
_  
Well, Raphael had just almost bled to death because Shredder couldn't keep a handle on his temper, so he felt like he was entitled to give him a bit of a hard time. "No. Let them stay," he ordered, crossing his arms with some difficulty. Shredder glared at him, and for a moment Raphael worried that he'd pushed too hard.

Then Shredder just waved him the OK. "Fine. What I wanted to say was..." He gave a short bow. "Thank you. You did well last night. You held up where most people wouldn't have...and didn't." He wouldn't look up.

Raphael couldn't believe his ears. Had Shredder actually just made reference to the pipe incident? In return he wanted to reassure him that the secret was safe, but couldn't think of how to do it. He realized that it had been a mistake to have this conversation in front of his brothers - Leonardo was staring at him with suspicion that bordered on hostility, and even Donatello was watching him edgeways. "You're welcome," he said uncomfortably, and felt compelled to tell his brothers _something._ "I saved him. Although...he kind of saved me a couple of times too, so I guess all in all I still owe him."

"Not at all," Shredder said smoothly. "It's true that I may have bailed you out a total of six or seven times by now, but last night you saved my job and my life. And since I'm worth at least ten of you, the way I see it _I_ still owe _you_ a life or two."

Raphael snorted. "I'll be reminding you of that someday, Can-head."

Leonardo butted in. "Speaking of the future. How do we know you're not going to turn right around and fetch your Foot soldiers and lead them to our lair?"

Raphael answered for him: "Because if we get the feeling that our lair isn't safe, we'll have to move house. To someplace on..._higher ground_. You read me, Shredder?"

"Of course." Shredder was not at all surprised. He had known all that what Raphael knew was legitimate blackmail material - if it became common knowledge that the Shredder fell apart in high places, the turtles might take to somehow forcing aerial battles on him, trapping him on planes or rooftops of heaven knows what. That was simply not acceptable, so he nodded agreement to Raphael's bargain and sealed it by offering the turtle some good friendly counsel. "A word of advice, Raphael, and I _am _serious: I may like you, but do not put yourself in a position where your life depends on my good graces. You'll end up dead."

Raphael prepared to argue with him - after all that had happened, _how_ could Shredder say that? But then, as he went to sit up a little straighter, the bandages on his arm rubbed the blanket the wrong way and it hurt so much that he kicked his feet reflexively, opening up the stinging cuts there, too.

For once in his life he kept his mouth shut, and Shredder smiled from behind the mask.

* * *

The End.

Aww, isn't that cute? What did you think? Pleeeease tell me! Thanks for reading.


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